Hidden Blades and Moonbeams
by Tari J. Deitrich
Summary: Simon Peter, Noah, Nathaniel, and Azaria are four young men raised by the Assassin Brotherhood in Aldenmor. They dedicate their lives to keeping peace in a country that abhors how they do it while trying to stay out of the King's eye. However, things get interesting when the King does get involved with them.
1. Prologue

_Hello, my readers.  
No, you're not imagining things. I took a very long break from this story and I do apologize for that. Then again, I took a break from many of my original works and fan fiction stories. Things weren't coming to me all that great until recently. Lately, I've been helping out a friend **Haley Phoenix** with her stories. More specifically, her Seven Cities Saga which is located on fiction press (the sister site to this one). I've been helping her flesh out details for her first novel, Camthaeran, and the companion guide which she hopes to publish at the same time. Until recently, my work has taken a back seat._

 _About a year or so ago, I started writing an Assassin's Creed fan fiction. That is until I hit a rut and haven't gone back to it. Now that I've restarted it, or rather looked back at what I did so far, I decided there were quite a few things I needed to do to it. Some chapters needed to be rearranged. And that is why I deleted Hidden Blades and Moonbeams. Just to restart it and move things around._

 _Here's a bit of background before you start.  
1\. This story doesn't take place in the time frame or the places you're familiar with. There also won't be any appearances of any of the assassins you know except for maybe Jacob and Evie Frye who have been taken out of their Victorian England setting and placed in modern day England. There may be mentions to Altair, Ezio, Connor, Edward, and the others but none of them appear in this either.  
2\. This takes place in a country in a dimension all its own called Aldenmor. Aldenmor (the world and everything therein) belongs specifically to my best friend and writing partner, **Kawaii Stella** , who has kindly allowed me to make a few alterations here and there. Therefore, credit to Aldenmor belongs to her. Aldenmor is a vampire-dominant country (I just wanted to point that out) ruled over by a monarchy.  
3\. Many of the names you see regarding the ruling family come from other fandoms such as Yugioh GX, Trinity Blood, Teen Titans, and others. Credit for those character names and their semblances go to the creators of these fandoms.  
4\. I'm also receiving help with this story from Kawaii Stella. She and I went back and forth with much of the dialogue over the last few days. Since we are working together on a few other stories, this one did not interfere with the line up at all.  
5\. This story also has a lot of back and forth viewpoints from various characters. Some assassins, some not assassins. I am making sure to divide each of these viewpoints up before they change to avoid any confusion._

 _Without further ado, feel free to Read and Review. I hope you enjoyed it._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| Prologue |

 **~Simon Peter's POV~**

I don't remember much about my previous life. The life I had before the Brotherhood took me and my identical twin brother, Andrew, in. We'd been in foster care since infancy, only to be shoved out into this cruel, cruel world after graduating into Master Hashshashin.

The whole time we lived with that family, they made it clear they were only going to raise us, but they weren't duty-bound to love us. Andrew and I spent a lot of time alone, not only trying to figure out what our lot in life was, but also trying to glean information about our parents. What we learned at the age of seven did not to bestow much confidence.

The Mentors wouldn't tell us much about the man and woman who sired and birthed us. We were never given any names, only telling us our father was a prominent figure in the Brotherhood and was cast out for having unsanctioned relationship with a Christian woman in secret. Our father, when confronted by the Mentors, remained unrepentant; announcing for the entire Brotherhood to hear that he loved this woman. That he had wedded her beneath the eye of her God. Despite the Mentors' wishes, he refused to annul his marriage to her, even going as far as to toss the Brotherhood's insignia upon the courtyard the storm away.

For years, the Brotherhood left our parents be. They only interfered when a fateful accident claimed their lives. The Mentors sent two Hashshashin in to lay claim to us, explaining to us that although our father had left the Brotherhood behind, his children could still be inducted into the Brotherhood whether we wanted to or not.

Mentor Jacob's explanation had explained much. Why we had no family save for the acolytes who trained with us and the foster parents who refused us any sort of parental affection. Why the adults in the streets called us sons of the betrayer. Why we were watched so closely and only sent on missions with a mentor to watch us.

When we reached a level of maturity, the Mentors called Andrew, myself, and four others to them. They told us we had been selected to be in the military of Aldenmor, not explaining why besides their need for talented men such as ourselves to prolong our training with the outsiders of Aldenmor. I was sent to join the Military Police, Andrew was sent to the Garrison. The other four, Razeen and Hasan—Muslim Hashshashin—and Theophilus and Nikolos—Greek Hashshashin- were also assigned. Razeen with me, Nikolos with Andrew, Hasan and Theophilus in the Defense Corps. The Mentors told us to do well but keep our natural skills hidden.

"Do so well the King would be surprised," said Abraham, the greatest of all the Mentors.

A car came to get us. We were to arrive on separate days to avoid any suspicions we might bring to the Brotherhood. Razeen and I went on the same day, in separate cars, within hours of each other. Razeen begged to be allowed to go first. His request was fine with me as I wished to have a moment in private with Andrew.

Andrew had not much to say. He seemed anxious, perhaps even angry. He could not understand why Abraham, Mus'ab, and Myles were sending us away. Andrew feared they were punishing us for something without telling us what it was. He went as far as to speculate we were being punished for our father's desertion.

I did not believe it to be so. I believed our father paid for his desertion with his life.

Yet, there had to be a reason why the Mentors deemed it necessary for us to leave the commune and join the Aldenmoran military. They would not even tell us when to come back, let alone if we were to return at all. Then again, it was not uncommon for Hashashins to be sent away for prolonged missions. The only thing I could be sure of was the Mentors would be keeping in contact with us. That we were not being dismissed, only sent on a mission together.

The world outside the commune was very different from what I had expected. Not that we saw much of it between the commune and the base the car took us to. Mentor Joseph handed me a packet of information—ID's birth certificate, and the like—and told me to present these to the recruiter. He told me that a contact inside the registry board had already created a background for me in case anyone needed to check.

The recruiter was a petite thing. A small and pretty female. Short, wavy, light-brown hair. Amber eyes. Pale skin. She pursed her lips as I drew near. Sizing me up. The plastic tag pinned to her uniform read **DREYSE, Hitch**.

"Name?" She asked, curtly.

Simon Peter Spielheimer." I said. I had already memorized the name in my packet. We often went without any last names unless necessary. The Mentors would often reward us with names upon completing our training.

Dreyse could barely hide a smirk. I could not tell if she was laughing at my first name or last. It did not matter to me if the Mentors had only just given me a new name, it was now mine. I found myself forcing my anger into an easy boil in my stomach.

I watched her scribble my name down. Her shoulders trembled, barely able to conceal her laughter. "Age?" She asked, voice cracking with ill-contained glee.

"Seventeen." I answered. At least my age remained the same. No doubt, many things about me were still spun with truth.

"Young buck." She commented, her laughter subsided into a hungrier look that I understood less than how she could compare me to a male deer.

I said nothing, only waiting for this process to be over.

"May I see your identification?" She snapped her fingers at the packet I still carried in my left hand.

Wordlessly, I passed it over, wondering if the Mentors had made a mistake sending me here. Why would they send me on a mission with no end date like this? What were we really supposed to do?

Dreyse sent my information ahead and I was led to a fitting room where I was given a uniform and told to change. A plastic badge was passed to me and I pinned it onto the lapel of my shirt. A chain onto which hung two, flat disks were given to me and I hung them around my neck. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized it was too late. I had been indoctrinated into the military outside the Brotherhood. Those people had eaten up the Mentors' subtle string of lies and accepted them as truth.

I was reminded of what Mentor Joseph taught us.

" _Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember . . ."_

" _Nothing is true."_

" _Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember . . ."_

" _Everything is permitted."_

It made me wonder how blind these people were that they were so willing to accept what was presented before them. How far would the dig to learn the truth—the _real_ truth? I promised not to make them ask questions. To be unassuming. To fly under their radar. They must never know Razeen and I were not normal humans—there was nothing in the packet to indicate I was a vampire, which is to obvious of a lie as they would notice my lack of blood intake. I would have to be careful.

And so began my life in the Aldenmoran military. This grueling life made me miss the quiet of home. Made me miss the religious traditions of my people and the colorful blend of Greeks, Jews, and Muslims. We barely saw our brothers assigned to the other branches. Apparently, the other branches did not interact much. I missed Andrew's company, but it seemed Andrew did not miss me. At least he didn't seem to when we met for Yom Kippur.

We did no embrace as we used to after having not seen each other for some time—being separated on missions used to make us anxious to see one another. Andrew only nodded at me to acknowledge my presence and gave me the traditional greeting. The rest of the day he spent giving me the cold shoulder. I wondered what was eating him but even Nikolos—Andrew's bunk mate in the Garrison—could not tell me. He could only suggest that, perhaps, Andrew was having trouble adjusting to being severed from the Brotherhood..

God knew I hoped that to be so.

For five years, we six faithfully served the branches our Mentors assigned us to. Razeen and I made a game out of trying to best one another by accumulating a rank before the other. Unfortunately, being in the Military Police meant we could not ear ranks as fast and we were forced to watch Theophilus and Hasan excel before we even became Staff Sergeants. Hasan became a Lieutenant and an avid sniper. Theophilus became a Sergeant and eventually, a brilliant Captain. Andrew and Nikolos only gained ranks as slowly as we. Even though Razeen and I barely spoke with our other brothers, we were able to watch for news on each other's progress thanks to the bulletin board located in the center of the base.

In our fourth year before our contract was to be up, Razeen quietly reminded me of our mission to impress the King—whatever that meant, we weren't sure. With so few options, we went to the Commander, Nile Dok, to ask how to better ourselves. Dok gave us several options: Security for Transport, Security in the Brig, Mounted or Dismounted Patrols, and Dog Handling.

Razeen quickly volunteered for Mounted Patrol, saying he liked horses—perhaps more than he liked people. I chose Security in the Brig. Doing this work was boring, though as long as I did my job, I was rewarded. I did well there. Even though I was settling into this life, I knew the Mentors were expecting something to come out of this. I only wondered what.

A year after Razeen and I chose our stations, I received my answer when Commander Dok came and handed me a summons from the Palace.

"I had this come across my desk this morning. Couldn't help but think of you." Dok said.

I took it from him and began to read.

 **NOW HIRING  
Location: **Palace of Aldenmor  
 **Date:** February 10-12  
 **Time:** 10A.M. Til NOON

We are currently looking for individuals to serve on the  
PALACE GUARD DETAIL  
Individuals must be able to work productively as a team.  
Military Experience Preferred  
Apply in person at Palace Aldenmor  
Ask for King Sartorius Shovat

I looked at Commander Dok, noticing him beaming expectantly at me. It was as though he believed I should apply. For what reason, I wasn't sure.

"You're one of the best we have, Spielheimer. They way you pick up on things is astounding. I don't know how you do it. I'm surprised you didn't join the Defense Corps. You really would've grown there. But here . . . we're holding you back. Stifling your skills." He hooked his thumbs into his belt. "Besides, your contract with us is almost up. You can either sign up again or go home, but I'd really be happier if you'd join the King's personal guard."

I returned my gaze back to the page before me. The Mentors had said nothing about an end date, let alone if we'd be allowed to return home. I suspected they were waiting for this. Or, at least, something akin to this.

"What do you think, Spielheimer? Wanna be a guard and live in a lavish palace?" His ruddy face split open wide as though he's just told me a joke. I didn't understand what that joke might be as I did not see the humor in his words.

"I will have to speak with my rabbi," was all I said. It was common knowledge around base that I am Jewish. It was also accepted that I had joined the military under my "rabbi's permission". I had also made it clear that I had to check with my "rabbi" before making any other adjustments to this life.

Since Dok knew of my religious background, he only nodded; giving me permission to place a call out to Rosewood and ask Mentor Abraham what he though of this new outcome. Much to my astonishment, the Mentors had expected this. Had planned for this. They ordered me to apply, extending the same instruction to Razeen as well. Mentor Abraham told me that one of us _had_ to be hired as a personal guard to the Kin. The other five were reserve guards meant to stand by in case the initial hiree couldn't hack it.

So, here I was, days later, sitting in a warmly-lit hallway of the Palace. White marble shined beneath my clean and shiny combat boots. I stared at the black dress slacks coating my legs. Creases starched so much my legs burned and itched beneath my palms. Across the door from me sat Razeen, who blatantly explained he had no desire to act as a guard for a bunch of spoiled royalty.

Even if we were to spy on the King and Queen.

Hasan and Theophilus had already applied, having been told by both Commander Zoë and Mentors Mus'ab and Myles to do so. Nikolos had told us that he and Andrew were planning on applying the next day. Though Andrew seemed bitter about it. I wondered if my twin planned to leave the Brotherhood. It wasn't like he couldn't renew his contract with the Garrison and find better living outside Rosewood. Nor was it like Andrew was dangerous enough for the Mentors to fear him if he did decide to desert. Desertion was still frowned upon. Former Hashashins often met with aggression or suspicion.

Still, I feared for my twin. Feared what he would do. The Brotherhood was all we had. They made us what we are.

I chose not to dwell on that. Chose not to think about what my twin could do. I, instead, looked at the walls. Light-cream catching light from the windows. Familial pictures hung up at regular intervals and priceless decorations around the corridors. Flowers dotted the spaces below each picture or sentineled the decorum. Gold-trimmed molding lined the bottom of the wall where it met the floor or arched around the doorways.

I got up to study one of the pictures before me. A blue-haired man and a purplish-haired woman sandwiching a silver-haired boy between them. All three were smiling with the happiest expressions one could imagine. I could tell this wasn't fake. I had seen faked joy before. This wasn't it.

A door finally opened and the living semblance of the man in the picture stepped out. He wasn't very old, but then, I'd heard of vampires living for near a millenia and never looking a day over twenty. But I knew this man was well into his thirties and nearing forty.

The man looked around, spotted us, then approached.

We stood up and saluted him.

"King Sartorius," we intoned in unison.

The king inclined his head. "Gentlemen."

Taking that to mean "at ease", we relaxed.

"Your Majesty, sir, we're here to apply for the guard position you posted." Razeen said.

"Do you understand what this position entails?"

"We are to guard the royal house and the members inside." We both said.

The king looked slightly amused, though we knew not why.

"Do you know why this position opened up?"

"No, sir."

"The guard assigned to my wife in preparation to become our new babies' guard died tragically in an automobile accident a few weeks ago. With three months remaining in my wife's pregnancy, we need to fill the spot very soon."

"We are to guard . . . children?" Razeen asked.

I bit my tongue. I loved kids.

"That is correct."

Elsewhere in the palace we could hear young children squealing in play.

"Children are precious and innocent, and also very vulnerable. I want my children kept out of harm's way. Do either of you have experience with children?"

"Not in our home life, sir." Razeen said. "I am the youngest of five."

"I am a twin." I said.

"But we serve on the military police division and sometimes minding children is in the job description." Razeen added.

The king looked at me. "You are a twin?"

I nodded. "I have a brother identical to me. My name is Simon Peter and my brother's name is Andrew."

He smiled. "How wonderful. We are expecting twins."

I smiled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Razeen attempt to apply a poker face. No doubt he was wondering how he was to watch two children at once. We had both assumed we were to be guarding the whole house. Not the family's many individuals.

A small child, perhaps five years old with purple hair cut to her chin ran to her father.

"Daddy, when will we play in the snow?"

"In a little while, Raven. After daddy finishes the interviews."

The little girl looked up at us.

I squatted in front of the girl. "Hi. What's you're name?" I asked.

"Raven." She said. "What's yours?"

"Simon Peter." I answered.

"Do you like the snow, Simon Peter?" She asked me.

"I do. It's nice to watch it fall."

Raven's eyes sparkled as she nodded. "It glitters, too!"

"Do you like the glitter?"

Another excited nod.

I smiled.

"Raven!"

I looked up to see a teenage boy with dark hair and red glasses standing on the balcony.

"Aunt Sari's got lunch ready!" The boy called.

Raven squealed and ran to her brother and the promise of lunch.

"How many children have you, Your Majesty?" Razeen asked.

"Eleven." The King answered. "The twins will make thirteen."

"So many heirs." Razeen muttered.

"Now, your job with the children would be to guard them and protect them. I do hate to call it baby sitting, but sometimes that is what it will entail. For the most part, while they are young, their mother and I will also be around. But for when they begin to get older and venture out, you'll go with them. Sometimes you will be able to keep a distance, others you'll stay close by. I feel like you both should be experienced with such details. Am I correct?"

"Not really." Razeen said.

The king looked a little disappointed with that response. "What have you been trained to do?"

"Police work in the military." I answered. "I did a year of guard duty in the brig."

"I was on mounted patrols with the horses." Razeen added.

"I see. What makes you feel qualified to protect my children?"

Razeen said nothing. Mounted patrols were nothing like "babysitting". I couldn't help but feel like this was a mistake.

"My Lord, guarding the brig is much like 'babysitting'. I was tasked with watching prisoners until their court hearing. I have stopped jail breaks before as well. Nothing escaped my notice."

Razeen still said nothing. Perhaps wishing he'd done something else instead of equestrian patrols.

"I see." The King said, looking thoughtful. "How gentle are you with your mounts?" He asked, looking at Razeen. "Do you tend to them yourself?"

"Yes sir. We are responsible for all our horse's needs. Feeding, grooming, and cleaning. I spent most of my time tending to my horse when I wasn't riding or seeing to my own needs."

"Very good. Many of the children enjoy horse riding just as my wife and I do. It would be nice to have a guard familiar with them. We had one a while back the was just terrified of them."

Razeen did not seem delighted with the idea of riding with children.

King Sartorius noticed. "Are you still interested in this position? I only want those serious in looking after my children."

Razeen didn't answer right away. To anyone watching, it would've appeared he was weighing the question carefully in his mind. What I saw was an inward grimace at his disobedience to the Brotherhood. His own discomfort mattered little to Mentor Mus'ab.

But was Razeen's sanity worth his obedience?

Finally, Razeen shook his head. "Apologies, Your Majesty. I suppose I am not a good fit for this position. Not yet anyway."

The king nodded. "I appreciate your honesty. Perhaps in the future there will be an opening more suited for you."

"Such as sentinel work?" Razeen asked as though requesting the king think of him next time he needs a new guard to do something as simple as guard the front door of his house.

He nodded. "We usually look for one to two new sentinels each late summer, you may consider applying for that then."

Razeen bowed. "I look forward to reapplying, My Lord."

"We will be glad to see you again."

"Thank you, My Lord." He said. He still waited for that word of dismissal.

Razeen turned away and marched toward the front entrance.

I watched him go out of the corner of my eye. The rest of my attention was on the king. "Yes, sir." I said.

"Very good. Why don't we continue the interview in my office?"

"As you wish."

His Highness led me to an elevator, where we went up to the next level of the palace. Down a tastefully decorated corridor and around a corner led us to the king's home office. Inside he sat behind the large desk in a leather chair. He motioned for me to make myself comfortable in one of the guest chairs.

The guest chair was comfortable enough to make such a task easy. Although, I felt like I was melting into the fabric it was so comfortable. I had to force myself to pay attention to the king.

"Tell me a little about yourself, Simon Peter."

This was not a question I was expecting. What did he want to know? I couldn't very well mention my background with the Brotherhood. What could I say? I'm a soldier? He already knew that. The year spent in the brig was already known.

I tried to think about what the job entailed. Personal guard to the king's future children. Twins, no less. Would my background in foster care help with any of that?

Sensing my hesitation to answer, the king broke the question down. "Why are you interested in protecting my children? What draws you to leave a career with our fine military?"

I opened my mouth to answer, hoping it would be an acceptable response. "I wish to grow beyond the constraints of the military and hone my skills in a way that would be beneficial for the whole of this country."

"I see. I take it then you believe that my children are a part of this country's future?"

Though subtle, I caught the undertone of the question. He was looking to see if I thought his family was good for Aldenmor.

"Are not children the future for any family or Country?" I asked. "I believe we borrow our world from the future generation. They inherit what we leave behind. From what I can see, you are raising for yourself future kings and queens and your heirs seem to be fine people. I wish to help you continue molding your heirs into good people this world can be proud to call their king or queen."

The king smiled. "Thank you. They are our future, and they pave the way for every person who follows. I think you will make a fine protector for our twins."

"It would be my honor to protect them."

"Are you sure you are up to handling two children?"

"My brother and I were raised in a foster family of eight. Six were younger. Two were elder. If I can handle chasing six, two are less challenging."

Smirking the king nodded. "Very good. I can understand where you are coming from, then, having two older brothers and an older sister, and two younger sisters."

I was confused. "Pardon me, My Lord, I thought you and Princess Sarina were the only two in your family. If you had elder brothers, how is it you inherited the throne?"

"My elder brothers are from my adopted family on earth. They took us in after mother and father vanished."

"So, your brothers are not blood heirs."

"No. Just Sarina and myself. The Tolens already had three children and a fourth coming soon after when they took us in off the streets. Their house was full but they made room." His highness chuckled. "I just recently brought most of my medical books here from home. I think mom was happy to have more room for her canned vegetables."

I did not say anything to that but I allowed myself to chuckle. Perhaps my own foster parents were happy to have room for more foster children.

"They couldn't afford to put me through school, but they did support me on my journey." The king was thoughtful for a moment. "I do need to ask, Simon Peter, do you have any kind of emergency medical training?"

"First aid." I answered.

"I see. I would like you to get a bit more training then, just your basic CPR, how to handle a child choking, food allergies, that sort of thing before you take your new uniform. A few of the children do have allergies, so there is a chance the twins will as well. I would like you to be prepared."

"I understand, sir, and I am willing to do so."

"Excellent. We welcome you to our staff."

"Thank you, sir."

The king rose from his seat. "You may wonder around to gain familiarity with the palace and the other children. Arella should be around somewhere. I'm sure she'll want to meet you, seeing as you'll be following her around."

"Am I to follow her around until the children are born?"

He nodded. "It would be best, I think, since she'll be with the babies most of the time once I return to work."

"I understand, sir."

"How long until you will be released from your military duties? If need be I can put in a word with Commander Jackson to have you released earlier. Seph owes me one."

"My contract with the Military Police is nearly ending. I suspect should I take this post, my contract will end. Commander Dok said as much even he showed me the poster."

"I see."

"I shall have to check with Dok. He'll know more."

"Do what you need to. Your quarters here will be ready for you."

A gentle knock came at the door before it opened. In came the queen, her arm draped over her large belly.

"Perfect timing, Arella." The king said, stepping around the desk to greet his wife. "I'd like you to meet the twins' guard."

I got out of my chair, stepping around to meet her.

"Queen Arella. It is a pleasure to meet you." I said. I couldn't take my eyes off her round belly. She looked ready to pop at any moment.

"The pleasure is all mine." Arella said. She laughed sweetly at my stare. "Hard to believe I still have three months to go, isn't it? They're certainly making themselves comfy in there."

"Do you know what you're having?" The words tasted like turpentine coming out of my mouth. It wasn't something we discussed in Rosewood. We preferred to keep the unborn's genders secret until birth as a way of saying "what will be, will be". In the world outside Rosewood, I'd noticed many friends asking such a question to expectant mothers. I only deemed it polite to ask.

"No, we always like to be surprised." Arella said with a smile. "Even though Sar could probably tell by looking at the ultrasounds, he swears he doesn't know."

"I don't." He insisted. "I never look that closely, no matter the temptation.

"I see. Well, whatever they are, I'm sure you will be quite happy."

"Of course we will be. We're very excited for them to arrive. Sarina is determined we'll have a boy and girl, and her premonitions have been correct for several of our children." Arella said. "Though, she predicted Abel wrong." She said with a smirk.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Perhaps wishing too hard for a niece." I remarked.

"That's what I think." Sar grinned. "She had even bought little dresses. Luckily for her Lilith came along next, so the dresses have been put to good use."

"That's good."

"It is."

"Sar, your kids are begging to go outside and play."

I turned and saw the crown princess standing there with a pink-haired baby on her hip. The young one looked to be just under a year old, teething on a colorful jelly ring.

I was startled by the odd color hair on that baby.

How did a mother with purple hair, and a father with blue and white hair make a pink-haired baby?

"Aw, come here, Aelita." Arella said, taking the baby into her arms. The little one smiled at her mother.

"Mama!"

Arella kissed her head.

I watched, awkwardly, unsure how to proceed.

The crown princess looked at me and smiled.

"How good it is to see you, Inspector. I haven't seen you since your last inoculations."

I suddenly remembered that Sarina was a nurse on the army base. "Good to see you, too, Princess." I said.

"I assume you've been well, seeing as I haven't seen you recently."

"About as well as to be expected." My words were honest.

Sarina nodded in understanding. "That's good."

"Simon Peter has just become our newest guard." Sartorius informed his sister.

"How wonderful! Congratulations!" Sarina smiled. "I hope the kids don't run you ragged."

"If they have not run you ragged, I suppose I shall be fine."

"That's the spirit."

Something made baby Aelita jump and squeal. "What's the matter?" Sartorius asked his wife.

"She felt the babies kicking. They've been very active today." Arella said, soothing her daughter.

"They're anxious to come see the world."

"Feels like it. Or they just enjoy keeping their poor mother up at all hours of the day and night."

"I'm sorry."

"It is just a part of motherhood." Arella said. "You'll see for yourself how active a baby can be once they've been born."

I just nodded.

"Don't let her scare you." Sarina told me. "Most of their kids have been pretty tame."

"I heard the horror stories from the Defence Corps. Very little scares me after that."

The princess nodded sadly. "They all have seen a lot of horrors. Some who return are never the same."

I nodded.

"Anywho," Sartorius said, interrupting his sister. "You may return to your duties, Simon Peter. We look forward to you wearing our uniforms."

I bowed. "I look forward to serving you, Your Majesty."

"Thank you. Don't forget about those training courses before you return. Enjoy your day."

"You as well."

With another bow, I left the comforts of the palace. Razeen met me in the car bound for base. He arched a black eyebrow at me when he saw the smile on my face.

"I am assuming the King accepted you as a 'babysitter'." He remarked, dryly.

"He did indeed, _Aah._ This is good for us, you know." I said.

Razeen said nothing to that. What he did say was, "Better you than me, _Shaqiq_. Children make me easily annoyed." He clenched his fist around the door handle. "Did you see the way that one girl interrupted her father when he was in a meeting? If she was my child, she would have known when it was acceptable to interrupt me when I am working."

I did not respond. Razeen was even less likely to settle down than I was. Time away from Rosewood had made things difficult for him as he was no longer looking to a Hashshashin-born girl to wed, nor was he out in the field looking for an impoverished woman he could take to bed with him. At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder what Razeen would really be like as a father. No doubt, if he'd had a daughter, she would've had him wrapped around her finger. Razeen talked like a tough man, but I'd seen a softer side to him when he worked the stables. Even showing the younger personnel how to work with their horses.

"When we get back, you need to tell the Mentors what happened. They will be pleased with this result." Razeen reminded me.

I nodded. As promised, I made my report to the Mentors when I got back to base; telling Dok I had to tell my "rabbi" the good news. Dok understood and even helped me find classes for CPR and other pre-emergency classes. He then informed me that my contract was now up and congratulated me on getting a guard post at the Palace.

I still couldn't help but wonder what all the Mentors had in mind for me there.


	2. Chapter One

_Hello, my readers.  
_

 _Yes, I know it's been a few days since I uploaded this story. I had a restless night yesterday and decided to work on it more before I had to go to work in the morning. So, I wrote chapter one and just finished this morning._

 _I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Because I'm enjoying writing this. Please R &R._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| Chapter One |

 **~Jobe's POV~**

Living the life of a Hashshashin is difficult. We live in the secluded village of Rosewood to practice our ways in peace and without interruption from outsiders.

We were a motley crew of Greeks, Jews, and Muslims. Although, the Jews and Muslims had never seen eye to eye before, somehow, our ancestors had worked out our differences enough to build a unified front as Hashshashins and settle here. The Greeks joined us next, bearing an ancient gift among them that the Elder Mentors saw as useful for us. They allowed the Greeks to join us, giving one of the Greeks a seat as an Elder. Part of a tribunal they called it.

Our way is strange. We are born as Hashshashin, we die as Hashshashin. We are inducted into the Order as soon as we can lift a wooden sword. We learn the words of our Creed as soon as we can talk. We train our bodies and our minds to become scholars and living weapons. Then, when we are old enough, we pledge our services to the Mentors, and to our brothers, and become masters ourselves. We would come before the Mentors and spoke the words of obedience and pledges. In return, we would have our ring fingers ritualistically cut off and our first hidden blades strapped to our left forearms to show our devotion to the Hashshashin people.

Coming of age is different across us all.

The Greeks began mentoring under an adult of the same sex, until they could begin to hold their own. If they were known to have "the gift", they were often paired with someone of another ethnicity to look after them and protect them—these pairings were usually inherited as part of a family heirloom of sorts.

The Jews celebrated Bar Mitzvahs and Bat Mitzvahs to show that they, too, have grown into fine young men and women. It was at this time that the men pledged their allegiance to the Mentors and were then recognized as Hashshashin.

The Muslims performed "Salat", and many other obligations which I, myself could not understand; no matter how much my Muslim friend, Malik, tried to explain it to me. What I did understand that it was all the same.

After we each reached puberty, we also began looking for wives; either amongst ourselves or when we left Aldenmor on missions. We took women from impoverished regions and brought them with us with promises of a better life. A better world where they need not fear dying due to illness or war.

While others did that, it was not something I liked to do. Besides, I had already had a woman promised to me. Esther. Little more than a butcher's daughter. But her father was friends with mine, Jerah. Together, they both worked to join Esther with me, my father declaring me an honorable man.

This was not uncommon as Jerah was joined with a Greek woman, Natasa. She nursed the wounded back to health and my father fell in love with her. Natasa fell for him. They came before the Mentors and asked to be wedded. The Mentors allowed it, seeing no harm in their marriage. And it was because of their marriage that I was born. And I showed signs of having "the gift" at birth. Unfortunately, Natasa could not give him anymore children after my infant sister was born still. Whether she was not physically able to carry full-term, or both my parents simply gave up in favor of raising their only child, I don't know.

But then, I was never really alone. Never really without siblings. The Hashshashins adopted all into one family. All of us brothers and sisters to each other. We were to treat each other as family despite our ethnic differences.

Over time, I had gotten close to two men in my life. Malik, a Muslim the same age as I, and Lamech, a Jew the same age as I. Lamech's father, Methuselah, had once been paired with my Greek mother's brother, Vaso, who also had the gift. As per the terms of the inheritance, the Mentors saw it fit to pair myself and Lamech together once we both had our Bar Mitzvahs. Even though Lamech and I were paired, we were not as close as Malik and I had been, or as Malik and Lamech had been. The pairing seemed to put a up a wall between the three of us. Malik and Lamech most of all.

It seemed as though Malik had high hopes the Mentors would see how close he had gotten to me and would choose him over Lamech to be my protector. It seemed as though Malik had gotten close to Lamech in hopes that the boy would attempt to sway the Mentors to turn their gaze toward himself and pair him with me. It was not to be. Lamech said nothing, did nothing, but bow and say he was honored. After all, the books of lineages had been placed before the Elders and they could see who Lamech's father was and the Greek Hashshashin he had been paired with was my uncle. Malik's father had not been paired with any Greek. Nor any of his father's fathers before him. He was not the right man for the job, they decided. Their books said as much.

I'd hoped Malik would understand the Mentors' decision. He seemed disappointed at first, but then seemed to understand later on. Except for the brooding demeanor he shrouded himself with as he shrouded himself with as he shrouded himself with the tunic and hood of the Hashshashin. I could feel the darkness overcoming Malik, a darkness which seemed to bloom the longer he remained away on missions alone.

He returned from Baghdad a changed man. It seemed he had spent too much time praying to the Muslim god and learning what it "really meant to be to a Muslim". It seemed as though he had spent too much time listening to the words of a Muslim Hashshashin guarding the Bureau there. The Mentors were convince their agent in Baghdad was corrupted, though there was no evidence of that. But there was no doubting Malik was not the same.

Malik began speaking in harsh tones when he and I were in private with Lamech. He began speaking of how the Muslims had it right. How Allah was frowning upon us for all the things we do. How we had perverted ourselves in the name of peace. How joining the Jews and Muslims was not acceptable. How the Elders were controlling us with their decisions based on ancient tomes and even more ancient ways.

The words he spoke rang with treasonous tones. Lamech and I cautioned him, reminding him of what would happen should he pursue these "dreams" of his. Malik shrugged it off as though our words meant nothing at all. He would laugh and smile and say he was only thinking aloud.

We should've done something. Should've said something to the Mentors. Should've asked to go to Baghdad and confront this Hanif ourselves. Lamech said as much, but neither of us had any means to go. After all, Lamech's wife, Adah, had just given birth to a boy they named Noah, and Esther had already presented me with a boy we named Nathaniel. Esther was doing well after a hard birth, but Adah was not well and her health slowly declining. The healers could do little for her and Lamech barely left her side except to train and perform missions. His mother, Eljora, stayed with Adah when Lamech could not; caring for baby Noah when Adah could not even hold him.

I understood Lamech's pain and did not press him on these matters. Did not ask him to come with me to the Mentors and speak with them of our suspicions of Malik. Did not ask him to come with me to Baghdad.

I only wished I had.

While Adah lay sleeping, Lamech and I decided we were to do patrols around the Village. We were restless, for this night had come with an odd chill about it. An uneasy feeling as we slipped on tunics and strapped on swords and daggers and pulled our hoods over our heads. We went together, meeting at a street corner between our houses. As I went, Esther's words of warning came to me as she took my infant son from my arms; nestling him in the crook of her elbow near her breast.

" _There is a strange fire burning tonight,_ Bia'eal _. Something will happen."_

Many others would've told her to be silent. Some would have dismissed her words as mere woman's mutterings. I did not. Esther was as much my partner in life as Lamech was. I kissed her on the mouth and vowed to be careful; smoothing her hair then Nathaniel's dark, downy head—his Jewish curls already starting to show. Esther watched me go with Nathaniel nursing from her breast. Her silhouette remained in the doorway even as I left to meet Lamech.

The streets of the Village were quiet. The weather cool with a subtle breeze. We met few fellow patrolling brothers. Their gray tunics differed from our white ones for they were Hashshashin retired from mission duties and passed into guard duties. They gave us curt nods which we returned. I was beginning to wonder whether Esther's words were mere ramblings or if I was suffering from paranoia—I'd heard of such things happening to Hashshashin who had seen too much death and destruction. I'd said as much to my partner-brother, but Lamech shoved aside my words.

"If you are paranoid, then so am I. There is something happening tonight. I know it." He said.

I wanted to suggest he return to Adah—that he relieve his mother from his wife's bedside and take Noah from her so he may know his father's touch—but Lamech was adamant we should at least walk by the Temple.

"Surely the patrols have already gone by there." I said.

Lamech looked at me, the hood wrinkling about his neck as he turned his head. "I want to be sure," was all he said.

I did not argue with him. The Temple was where the Mentors presided over us—ruled over us. It was where we took oaths and were baptized and circumcised. It housed our histories and ledgers of Hashshashins come and gone. Sensitive information was located there under lock and key. This I knew and so I relented to my partner-brother's wishes, letting him lead the way to the Temple.

We walked around the three entrances dedicated to the three religions we all shared. The Greek Christian Orthodox Church, the Jewish Tabernacle, and the Muslim Mihrab. Everything seemed still and perfect. No one prayed within either Church, or Mihrab, or Tabernacle.

I touched Lamech's arm in an attempt to gain his attention. I wanted to tell him we should go back to our houses and wives but Lamech was not looking at me. The beak of his hood was pointed skyward and his beard bristled in such a way that I knew he was frowning. I looked to where his gaze was turned and saw lights glowing within the Great Library. Lamech and I locked gazes and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.

We separated, going about searching the exterior of the Temple. Lamech found the broken latch on the smaller door which lead to a hallway meant to be used as an escape route in the event of a fire. He waited for me to arrive, eyes roving from the window where he could still see the lights to the partially opened door. He was still watching when I caught up with him. Swords drawn, we went together.

 **\|/**

 **~Malik's POV~**

The Mentors were lying. They were hiding something. I had to know the truth. The truth of why Muslims and Jews had bound themselves together. Hanif had said the Jews had tainted my people with conniving lies and persuasive gestures. He called me a Jew with a Muslim's face. I called myself a Muslim but I was no true Muslim.

No true follower of Allah.

None of us in Aldenmor were true followers of Allah.

He let me wander the city streets of Baghdad. To see the people. To pray in the Mihrab. To speak with the other Muslim Hashshashin there and the Alim who ruled over the Mosque.

I did as Hanif asked, reporting back to him in the Bureau every night and telling him whatever the Alim and Hashshashin had told me. Hanif would nod with such wisdom and say everything I told him is true. And, if I considered myself a true Muslim, then I must find a way to correct the mistake my masters made centuries past.

I made a promise to Hanif that I would prove myself a true Muslim. I had to swear it to him before he would even give me the feather of a dove and the name of the man I was to kill there. When I returned the dove feather to Hanif, he told me I was ready to return to Aldenmor, but to remember what I learned here. To remember what he had said about my masters.

I told him I would remember. And I would return my Muslim brothers to their rightful places among the others of our faith. Hanif promised we were welcome to return here to Baghdad. That he would provide safety and comfort for all of us who came home.

I returned to Aldenmor an enlightened man. Hanif had opened my eyes to the truth. I now saw what my masters were doing. How they were treating us like dogs. How they controlled our everyday lives with outdated traditions and standards.

I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear being their dog anymore. To respond to their whims as they snapped their fingers. My brothers were blind to this as our ancestors had been blind to it since we settled here.

I managed to meet with many of my Muslim brothers in private and tell them about the wonders and truths I'd seen in Baghdad. Some were convinced that what the masters were doing was wrong and they were ashamed that Mus'ab was too blind to see what Abraham had done. What all the ancestors had done. The others I couldn't sway warned me to cease my prattle before my words became grounds for treason.

I had followers. Eight men on my side. They said they would follow me to Baghdad and bring their families with them. I was pleased with their fealty. They were enlightened now. I knew they would wish to hear more of Hanif's truths. But I had to find the truth. I had to find a way to sway the rest of my people away from the Jews. I must find a way to reverse the damage caused to my people.

The Great Library was a good place to start. I had gotten nowhere speaking directly with Mus'ab. Mus'ab avoided my questions entirely by quoting ancient texts from Hashshashin long-since dead. None of the scholars were willing to help me find the texts I required. They would often try to distract me if I wandered the stacks myself. Always when I seemed to be getting close to something.

The Locked Case, especially. Why else would the scholars appear like shadows out of the woodwork when I got too close to it. I decided I had to see what was in that case. But I had to do it when the scholars retired for the night.

I managed to learn where the keys were kept and who kept them. I managed to memorize where the scholars were and where they went. I memorized their names and faces, even beneath the dirty-white hijabs they wore across their faces. I remembered everything I saw and heard. Then, I marked the night I would go and do it.

It was a night where so few patrolling Hashshashin would be about. The cooler night would coax the rest of them indoors for warm drink and the comfort of a good woman in their beds. I moved through the night. Silent as a shadow. As stealthy as a cat. I picked my way into the Temple. The fire exit door was a flimsy thing. I was able to break latch and lock and steal inside.

I was picking my way through the tomes by lamplight. Reading the scribbles worn with age. I found nothing on the shelves before I decided to finally tackle the Locked Case. The keys were carelessly left in a desk drawer where the head scholar sat. Finding the right key was difficult as there were so many clanging on the iron ring. Before long, I did find the key that fit the lock.

The lock snapped open and the iron gate creaked as it, too, opened; like a gaping, toothless maw ready to swallow me up in the vast knowledge it had swallowed. I scanned the worn, leather covers; looking for some sort of pattern to this scattering. The oldest tome would be a likely thing to read.

I snatched it off the shelf and went to my table; poring over the ancient texts I saw within. The author, whose name I could not read, said much about where the first Hashshashin came from. Syria. More specifically, a village called Masyaf with an enormous, ruined castle in Syria. These Hashshashin were also Muslim, but the founder of the Aldenmoran Hashshashins was Jewish, inducted into the Masyaf Hashshashin Order when he was just a lad. He came to Aldenmor and started a sect here, inviting his Jewish and Muslim brothers to join him.

The texts were the same as what the other histories spoke of. Yet, all I could see were lies. This Jew must have connived his way into their Order. Must've lied about who he was and what god he answered to. The others must've done the same.

" _The Jews are liars!"_ Hanif had said to me. _"They lied about which son of Abraham's was blessed by Allah when Abraham was to sacrifice his son that day! They have spoken so many lies! We must separate ourselves from them!"_

I did not hear the footsteps. Did not hear the two figures approach until they were at my back and one's sword was pressing lightly between my shoulders. I turned and saw my Jewish brothers. Both were very serious-faced beneath those pointed eagle hoods. I knew them both. Knew them since we were children training in the yard behind the Temple with wooden swords. They were my friends and I loved them as brothers. But, perhaps that was what our masters wanted us to do. Befriend and love the Jews as a dog loves his master.

I was no dog.

"Malik? What are you doing here?" Lamech asked.

The man beside him, Jobe, looked around, saw the scattered tomes and the open Locked Case. I saw him frown. I did not expect them to understand. They were tainted by their masters' lies. They would not help me when I warned them about what their masters stood for. It was too late for them. And I would be glad to leave them for they had betrayed me when they hadn't stood up for me before their masters when Lamech was selected to be Jobe's partner-brother.

As always, they had left me in their wake. I had been struggling my whole life to keep up with them.

 _No more!_

"Malik, why have you done this? Why have you broken into the Great Library in the dead of night, as a thief steals in to take possessions not his own?" Jobe asked. His hand tightened around his sword.

"To learn the truth." I answered, honestly.

"The _truth_? The Mentors have told us the truth all our lives. We are defenders of the weak and helpless. Avengers for those who have no voice. This talk of diversity you have been speaking recently is not the basis on which we live. No one should care what our religion is as long as we obey the time-honored laws passed down to us from our forefathers."

"Does not matter? Why doesn't it matter? It matters to the people outside this world! It matters to our Hashshashin brethren in Baghdad!" I looked at Jobe. Oh, how much like his Jewish father he looked, with none of his mother's Greek ancestry. Not a bit of blond hair or blue eyes. Yet, I knew of his gift. The gift he'd borne since birth. "You, of all people, should understand, Jobe, son of Jerah. You're born from a Jewish and Greek pairing, and yet you are a Jew."

"So I am." Jobe said. "It was my father's decision when I was born, but it was mine when I was old enough to understand."

"But, do you know why the Greeks are even here? Why it was we decided to induct them into this Order?" I asked.

"Because they came and asked to join." Lamech said.

"We could have turned them away, but we didn't. Why? Because the Greeks who came were gifted from an ancestor long ago. They're nothing more than tools. And we are forced to bind ourselves to them as users of these tools, as though they are swords." I pointed to Jobe. "Your father did more than that. He married a tool because he wanted a tool in his line. You became a pawn in the grand scheme of things.

"This way of ours is perverted. We cannot go on like this." I went on.

"If you didn't want to be a Hashshashin, you should not have spoken the words that day." Lamech said.

"I was blind. As were all of you. I did not understand what it meant to be a Hashshashin. Until now. My eyes have been opened and I shall do what I must to retain whatever honor my people have left."

Lamech pressed the sword harder. "You speak of treason. If you plan an uprising against the Mentors, you will be stripped of your title and banished. Perhaps even killed. We will offer you no kindness."

"Please say you do not mean what you say. Please say you don't wish to leave." Jobe begged.

I knew they wouldn't understand and my heart grew heavy with sorrow for them.

"For too long, they have controlled us like mere pawns on a chess board!" I said. "I will stand for it no longer!"

Lamech pressed his sword into my sternum. I could feel the tip of the blade parting the fibers of my robe. "You call yourself a pawn in their game, yet you took the vows. You spoke the words before our brothers. You took your hidden blade and gave up a finger. You had a choice when the Mentors turned their gaze upon you. You chose to join the Brotherhood."

"This _choice_ was thrust upon us since we were young. How were we allowed to choose when this is all we know?" I asked.

"And now you choose treason? Who has filled your head with lies, Malik?" Jobe asked. "Who has spoken these poisonous words and twisted your views on what we are?"

"It doesn't matter! What matters is my eyes are opened!" My sword was in my hand and I batted Lamech's away. " _Almawt 'iilaa 'uwfirlurds!_ " I cried.

A fierce fight raged between myself and the ones I had once called 'brothers'. They came at me, Lamech with his sword, and Jobe with his gift. Steel clashed and teeth gnashed. The two of them worked together in synchronized harmony, striking at me while my focus was on the other. Lamech was a master swordsman. Jobe was well-trained in how to use his gift by his uncle, Vaso.

I knew not how to battle a man in wolf's skin.

The battle ended swiftly when Lamech was driven onto my blade. I watched the light leave his eyes as he died. His body sliding off my blade, leaving behind a wet, red streak. Behind me, Jobe howled and attacked me. Vicious. More animal than man now. I could barely keep up with his speed and ferocity. He bit me hard on my hand. I felt the skin tear and my sword fell from my grasp. Jobe knocked me down before I had a chance to reach for the short sword at my back. I blinked and he was a man, straddling my chest with my robe knotted in his fist.

"Malik ibn'Husam, under the authority of the Mentors, and under the power of the Creed, I arrest you and put a stop under this madness." Jobe declared.

Even as I looked in his eyes, I did not fear him. I did not fear his words or the Creed. For now I knew I was free.


	3. Chapter Two

_Hello, my readers._

 _It's been a while since I last updated. I won't make any apologies. It just took me some time to get the kinks worked out is all._

 _I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Because I'm enjoying writing this. Please R &R._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| Chapter Two |

 **~Simon Peter's POV~**

I spent about a month in the service of the King. My duties were to follow the Queen around, keeping at a distance but aware of everything around her. Before I returned to Palace Aldenmor, Dok had found classes that taught what the King told me to study. I attended the classes, learning things beyond what the healers of the Brotherhood taught. I also learned our first aid was severely outdated. So, I allowed myself to be retrained. Retaught first aid, what to do when adults and children were choking, and how to deal with an allergy.

I'd sent my meager possessions ahead to the Palace the night before I was to join them. My bags were put in the guard house and I was permitted to settle in when I arrived the next morning. While I unpacked, I received a visitor: a woman named Astra who claimed to be Queen Arella's personal guard. She came to tell me she was ordered to teach me how to properly guard a queen.

"Your job is only temporary, you know. At least until the babes are born." She said.

I nodded in understanding, asking when we were going to begin. She responded with: "Now. Get your things. I will guide you through the steps today. Tomorrow, you and I will work in shifts."

Following Queen Arella was not as exciting as I had hoped it would be. The Queen spent most of her days either in her husband's company, or in the garden, or in her little sun room where she sewed or read. Astra explained that I was mostly to stay close to Arella to receive orders or just simply guard her from any and all threats the family was likely to face. According to Astra, there were still many threats against the family. Many unhappy rebels still waiting for the King to start acting like his father and his father's father so they could overthrow the family, even though King Sartorius had already proven to be unlike either of his forebears.

I was barely old enough to remember what it was like in Aldenmor before the return of the King. Too sheltered to know how people acted while the King and Princess Regent were gone from this world. I could only assume what Astra said was correct. Though, I still needed confirmation.

"How many assassination attempts or attempted overthrows have you prevented?" I asked.

"One or two," Astra replied, curtly with a no-nonsense attitude about her. "The rabble hasn't attacked the Palace in some time. Even so, King Sartorius wishes to have his family defended at all times."

I could understand that. From what I saw of the King and his wife, they were good people. Family-oriented at that. Both monarchs enjoyed the company of their eleven children. Which often meant Astra and myself also guarded in the company of the other personal guards in the Palace. I learned their names as I was trained to and tried to get close to them in hopes of never finding a dagger in my back. It seemed trust was paramount to this position. Trust amongst the guards as well as the people we guarded.

Firstly, there was Nicodemus who preferred to be called Nick, and was the King's personal protector as well as Head Guard, was less than warmly welcoming toward me. I could tell by the separated ring finger on his left hand that he was one of my brothers. In private, outside the hearing of the other guards, he'd pulled me aside and grumbled on about how insulting it was for the Mentors to send another Hashshashin to the Palace. When I assured him I was not here to take his spot in the King's Guard, he calmed and left me alone with some parting words.

"You'll still want your hidden blade. It's as much a part of you as your arm is a part of your body." He showed me his left arm and I could see his hidden blade strapped to the gauntlet there. "Remove your hidden blade from its gauntlet and attach it to your guard's one. That way, it will always be hidden, but on your person."

I took Nicodemus' advice and retrofitted my hidden blade to my guard's uniform.

Big Bronn, Prince Abel's personal guard. He was strong as a bear and agile as a stream. I liked Bronn in a way during off-duty hours when he would sit at the small, round table in the guardhouse and play poker while drinking whiskey. The liquor loosened his tongue and often caused him to begin singing raucous ballads.

Darby, personal guard to Princess Lilith, was slender as a rail and quite beautiful. But I learned quickly she was not the type to underestimate. Not since I saw her and Jory—Prince Marbles' personal guard—duke it out in the training yard and Jory came away with more than a few bruised ribs and a wounded ego.

Tristan and Robin, cousins and guards to Princes Emory and Zane, were sharp-eyed and hard-faced. Tristan slept with one eye open and Robin was slept so lightly it was difficult to even get up to use the bathroom without waking him. Writing letters to the Mentors without waking him proved to be a challenge as I often had to write by the window where a security light filtered through. He often laughed at me and asked if I was keeping a journal.

Willem, Prince Atticus' personal guard, was as fierce as he was quiet. He could often be seen following Atticus around or playing cards with him, or doing whatever it was the hot-headed Prince decided he wanted to do. While Willem was quiet and thorough, Atticus was loud and rambunctious. They were perfectly matched, it seemed. Willem more often than not whispered words of caution to his charge and kept him out of trouble.

Trisha, who guarded Princess Alexis, was only ever kind when it came to her employers and her charge. Princess Alexis was a lovely, sweet girl who Trisha seemed to love more than her own life. Trisha could often be seen coddling the young princess, providing sweets when she could. To the rest of the guard, Trisha demanded nothing more than an adherence to the code of conduct. She was hard on the rest of us. Especially Big Bronn whom she would often ridicule for drinking so much off duty.

Daniel, who guarded Prince Bastion, was as easy going as his charge but I learned quickly not to take that to mean he was lazy. He and Jory were often found grappling in the yard in the morning before our charges were even awake. Jory had yet to best Daniel, but that did not stop him from trying every morning.

Aaron, who guarded Prince Cyrus. A quiet, sharp-eyed, soft-spoken individual was Aaron who was easy to find if one knew where to look. Aaron was Cyrus' shadow, going wherever Cyrus went and casing whatever areas around or outside the Palace the young Prince wished to be.

Lastly, there was Felicia, Princess Aelita's guard, only looked quiet and timid and defenseless while off-duty in the guardhouse. But like Darby, she was not to be underestimated or challenged. She had a forbidding manner about her, only showing kindness toward her little charge. Felicia's sister, April—Princess Raven's guard—lacked the quiet and timid and defenselessness of her sister's appearance and I learned quickly that she slept with a dagger sheathed beneath her pillow.

After my first day working alongside Astra guarding the Queen, Astra quietly dismissed herself as Queen's guard for the next day to rest and relax. She left me in charge of Queen Arella's care, though there wasn't much to it. Until the Queen announced at dinner that night she had a meeting at the military base she had to attend to.

My heart clenched in my chest. A meeting at the base? Somehow, it had escaped my notice that the Queen was even involved in the affairs of war. I tried to recall if I'd ever seen her there. Perhaps I hadn't as Astra often explained to me that the Queen usually only met with the Commanders of each branch. Which meant that the only person in the Military Police who would've met with her was Commander Dok. Garrison leaders and Defense Corps leaders would also be present to give their reports to the Queen.

As I prepared for bed, Astra standing near her bunk preparing for rounds as day slowly gave way to night, I saw her smirking at me.

"Excited to see where you came from?" She asked.

"That isn't where I came from." I answered. "I come from a place far from here."

"You know what I meant." Astra said, sitting on her bunk and lacing up her boots. Hair the color of burnt umber spilled down her back. I admired her a moment. Especially the way her hair fell down like that, knowing she would soon be twisting it into a severe braid before she went out the door. "I didn't mean the base as the place you came from. But that is where you got your start."

"My start in what?" I asked, curiously; wondering why she was being so cryptic.

"A new career of course." Astra said.

"Don't be daft," said Bronn as he sat at the card table with Tristan and Robin swigging whiskey straight from the bottle. His eyes were already bloodshot from the amount of alcohol he'd already consumed. "Most Military Police stay in for a career. Isn't that right, Simon?"

Tristan and Robin sniggered. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Since day one, they'd insisted on just calling me Simon because Simon Peter was a mouthful and I'd already said no to being called plainly Peter or Pete. Or, as Tristan in his drunken, childish manner had said, "Stinky Pete". I had gone red in the face and announced loud enough for the whole yard to hear that I bathed frequently.

"Some do. Some don't." I answered nonchalant. "It's mostly the Defense Corps looking for a career with the military."

Bronn put his bottle down. "Don't I know it. Bunch of swine, the lot of them. Stuffed shirts. Ignorant assholes. That's all they are. They're just looking for that next big promotion and a posh office with the cushy chairs. No need to actually go into battle. Just tell their armed flunkies what to do and where to go."

"Isn't that what we do?" Robin asked. He checked the cards in his hand, smirked, and chucked out a few red chips.

"We don't do anything other than what the King or Queen tells us." Bronn answered. "And you've got to admit we live a lot better than they do. No need to go to war. No need to take up arms. Grounds have been quiet for years now."

Nicodemus, who was reclining against his pillow reading a book, nodded in agreement. Next to Bronn, Nicodemus had been serving the royal family the longest. Secretly installed by the mentors as a spy but legally hired in as a royal guard when the King and Princess Regent returned to Aldenmor.

"Aye," Nicodemus said, tiredly. "It's been quiet alright. Been quiet since Princess Lilith's birth."

"Damn right." Bronn said. He stared at Robin's chips as though counting them, then doubled the amount with his own.

Tristan frowned and threw down his cards. I never understood Poker and had never had a reason to learn, despite Bronn, Tristan, and Robin insisting I learn if only just to pass the time.

"It's been very quiet. Rabble rousers don't dare come on these grounds." Bronn continued.

Astra buckled on her sword belt with practiced ease, then yanked on the fur cloak emblazoned with the Shovat family seal across her back and down the sleeves. "It's been quiet for a good reason, Bronn." She said. "The King's a good man. Nothing like his forebears. The people can respect him. He's been working hard to make this world a better place."

"Yeah. Him and that creepy fellow." Daniel said. "What's his name again? Doctor . . ."

"Never you mind." Nicodemus spat, which gave me the feeling he knew precisely what doctor Daniel meant. "Who the King meets with is his business. Not ours. Not unless this 'creepy fellow' meant him ill. From what I can see, he doesn't."

"I'd still like to know who he is and why he's met with the King so frequently." Daniel mumbled. "I mean, I haven't seen him around much lately. Not since the last gala."

"Ask him next time you see him." Bronn said with a smirk. He reached over as Astra walked by him and gave her a tap on the arm as a sign of good luck.

I found this information interesting and I sat on the bunk contemplating so many things I'd learned tonight. I hadn't forgotten that I hadn't answered Astra's question about going back to the base. I just had no answer for her. How could I explain I was only staying on contract to contract until the Mentors deemed it necessary to call me home? Did they plan on us making military life a career? How long were they going to make us stay outside Rosewood? I had no answer and I knew I couldn't just simply ask them outright.

I watched Bronn, Tristan, and Robin grow tipsier and tipsier on their whiskey and rum. Eventually, they were so drunk, they couldn't speak or bet properly and finally retired to their bunks for the night. Daniel, Felicia, Aaron, and Darby, April, Aaron, Trisha, Willem, and Jory also retired for the night until it was just me and Nicodemus still awake. I moved to sit beside Nicodemus' bed and kept my tones low enough the others couldn't hear as we conversed in Hebrew.

"You know who that man is that meets with the King, don't you?" I asked.

Nicodemus nodded. "I do." He answered. "His name is Dr. Brannon Fineman. He's the head of Willow Gardens Psychiatric Hospital."

I was startled by this information. The King meeting with a psychiatrist? What did this mean? Was the King ill in the head and needing professional help? If so, why didn't he simply go to Willow Gardens himself to speak with this doctor?

"I know what you're thinking, Simon Peter." Nicodemus said, looking at me while still holding his book. "The King is extremely sound of mind. Doctor Fineman is an old friend who's happened to be alive for nearly four centuries. He's been counseling the King in the country's affairs in hopes of making Aldenmor a better place than when the King left it as a Princeling." Nicodemus went back to reading, turning a page over a bit roughly than necessary. "What Daniel says is true, though. Doctor Fineman hasn't been coming around here lately so I assume there isn't much left for them to discuss. You will, however, see him at the next gala. The man cannot stay away when there's food, drink, and dancing involved."

"When will the next gala be?" I asked.

"Probably when the King and Queen choose a date to christen their twins." Nicodemus answered. "They've always got galas for that sort of thing. Christenings, birthdays, coronations. You name it, they have it."

"And what are we to do during these galas?"

"What we always do any other day. Guard the family."

I crossed my legs beneath me and leaned my head back against Nicodemus' bedside table. "What can you tell me about this . . . Dr. Fineman?" I asked the older Hashshashin.

Nicodemus curled his lip at me. "If you're planning on writing a report to him back to the Mentors, don't bother. The Mentors are well aware of him already." He snapped his book shut and plopped it hard on the table beside him. "I've done my duty. Don't accuse me of doing otherwise."

"I wasn't accusing you of anything, Aah." I assured him. "I'm sure you already told the Mentors about him. I was asking out of curiosity."

"Keep your curiosity to yourself where it belongs. And don't dare speak to me in that condescending manner." Nicodemus snapped. "The only thing you need to know about that man is what I already told you. Besides the fact the Mentors already told me I needn't worry about him. Apparently they have been aware of him for some time and he has not caused them enough trouble to warrant looking into."

"I will take your word on it, Aah." I said. I was taken aback by Nicodemus' words. Clearly, he was taking my presence here as a Hashshashin spy a little harder than he needed to. There had been days when I wondered if he even considered himself a Hashshashin anymore. If he ever dreamed of returning to Rosewood. Did the Mentors even count him as one of ours?

I quietly dismissed myself from Nicodemus' side and returned to my bunk. I still couldn't understand why he had been so unwelcoming towards me. And he clearly seemed to be in no mood to discuss his relationship with the Brotherhood.

The next morning came to early. As it always had, Daniel and Jory had started the day by stretching and stepping outside in the yard to grapple. Their hands were bound in grappling gloves and they proceeded to throw each other about in the dirt, ice, and snow. Neither one wore a shirt, though their breath appeared in plumes. The rest of us had stretched, dressed, then went outside to practice sword-fighting and hand-to-hand combat. Nicodemus had deemed it necessary for all of us to partake in practice fights before breakfast. Not that I could fault him.

Finally, we returned to the guardhouse for breakfast and found Astra sitting at the table alone drinking tea and eating a plain bagel with butter. She looked tired from the long night she'd had walking the battlements and maintaining the peace on Palace grounds. She didn't say a word to us as she finished her breakfast, then retired to her bunk. But before she slipped into bed, she turned to me.

"Don't forget to report to Queen Arella when you've finished eating and praying." She said, curtly.

I nodded as I took a piece of toast, buttered it, and ate it. Once I was finished eating, I prayed, changed, then went to find the Queen with the others in tow. The royal family was easy to find this early in the morning. Breakfast time for them. As I lingered at the wall behind the Queen, looking out at all the children she and the King had made, I still could not fathom how different they all looked but alike they all seemed.

Abel, with his silvery gray hair and pale blue eyes and wire-rim spectacles. Tall, lanky, and clumsy. Lilith with her red hair and green-gold eyes. Slender and dainty and ever sure of herself. Marbles with his blue-tinted black hair, golden eyes, red-framed glasses. Tall and delicate but ever so happy. Zane with his dark-blue hair and matching eyes. Straight-backed and proud. Atticus and Alexis, near twin-like with their brunette hair and brown eyes, though Atticus was older than Alexis. Bastion with his swept-back black hair and lavender eyes. Clumsy and happy. Raven with her purplish hair and black eyes. There was something off about her I couldn't quite put my finger on but the girl was sweet enough I paid my personal feelings little heed. Cyrus with his sea-green hair and gold-green eyes and wire-rimmed spectacles. Small, timid, but polite and ever hungering for knowledge. Emory, the smaller spitting image of his eldest brother, Abel. Tall, scrawny, and excitable. And little Aelita with her pink hair and soft black eyes. Intelligent even for her age and kind.

The King and Queen had their hands full trying to feed all eleven mouths at once. King Sartorius repeatedly but gently chastising his wife by begging her to please sit and rest. Despite his best wishes, the pregnant Queen made several attempts to help him feed all their children before finally resigning herself to only feeding Aelita. Queen Arella's gaze slid in my direction as I walked into the dining room and she smiled.

"Good morning, Simon Peter. I hope you slept well." She said.

I only nodded at her as I took my place at the wall behind her. My hands behind my back, spine straight, and eyes forward, I took in the scene before me. Watching King Sartorius and Princess Regent Sarina move about the kitchen preparing food for all the children. Finally, they all settled down and ate.

"Do you still plan to go to the Base today, my dear?" King Sartorius asked his wife.

"I do, indeed." The Queen answered.

"You be careful, and don't strain yourself." The King said. Gentle and loving as always.

"I will be." The Queen said, sweetly. She twisted in her seat and smiled at me. "After all, Simon Peter will be with me."

"Of course, Your Majesty." I said, inclining my head.

With breakfast over and the children cleaned up and off doing their own things in the company of their guards, I went with the Queen to her car and was very much surprised to learn she drove herself. This family wasn't like any royalty I'd met on my missions. They had a minimal staff of servants, a large staff of guards, but this family liked to do things on their own their way. All I was expected to do was accompany my charge and keep any and all particular threats away from her.

The meeting among the Commanders and the Queen was as dull as I had expected. And I'd only wished I'd had some help. There were so many people to watch. So many corners of the room threats could be lurking. I managed to compensate by taking any reports turned over to the Queen, checking them over, then presenting them to the Queen myself. Whether the Queen appreciated it or not, she never seemed to get upset nor did she lecture me on it. She only smiled and thanked me.

When the meeting was over, I escorted the Queen to her car and a voice hailed me.

"Spielheimer!"

I turned and saw Dreyse coming across the yard toward me. In the blink of an eye, she was right in front of me. Straight-backed with her hands folded at her hips. I noticed she had her chest thrown out and she was looking at me doe-eyed beneath those wavy brown bangs.

"I wondered when you'd come back, Spielheimer." She said, blinking at me in a way I didn't understand. She gave me a smile that was anything but friendly and seemed to gaze at me in a hungry sort of way. For the past eight years, she'd looked at me the same way and I had never once quite understood why.

I stood stiff and tall, trying to ignore how she stared at me. "I am not here to visit, Dreyse. I'm only here on business with the Queen."

Dreyse gave the Queen a cursory glance passed my elbow. She seemed unimpressed by my response as well as how far up into the world I'd advanced. "Guarding the Queen now. Sounds boring." She commented, dryly.

"It's a great honor to be selected as part of the King's Guard." I responded, ready to be rid of her.

"If you say so." Dreyse said, nonchalant.

She placed a hand on my breast, her hungry smile had not gone away. I immediately decided after eight years of ignoring her passes, I did not like her. Nor was she the woman I was looking for. I watched her as she walked across the yard away from me. Her movements were delicate and graceful. I couldn't help but notice how her walk made her rear end sway. A single word for her came to mind, one repeated by the Mentors.

 _"Mepth."_

Seductress.

Mentor Joseph's words came to mind as I watched Dreyse's retreating figure disappear. _"Guard your heart and guard your loins lest a seductress sway you off your righteous path."_

The Queen's hand was at my elbow and I slowly turned to face my charge. "An old friend of yours, Simon Peter?" She kindly asked.

"Nothing of the sort, Your Majesty." I answered. "More like an old nuisance."

"Then perhaps we should return to the Palace before the 'old nuisance' decides to come back." Queen Arella suggested and I couldn't help but agree.


	4. Chapter Three

_Hello, my readers._

 _It's been a while since I last updated. I won't make any apologies. It just took me some time to get the kinks worked out is all._

 _I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Because I'm enjoying writing this. Please R &R._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| Chapter Three |

 **~Jobe's POV~**

The Council Chamber was dimly lit in the orangey glow of several lamps. Seated before me were the three Mentors. Abraham of the Jews, Mus'ab of the Muslims, and Myles of the Greeks. The three Mentors stared at me as I knelt before the great table. They had called to me and I came, though it pained me to report to them knowing what they would ask. Knowing what it was they wanted to speak to me about. I passed the eighteen brothers of mine standing guard at the door and near the Mentors, wishing I was back at home tending to my wife and son. My beloved Esther was also tending to Adah and baby Noah now that Lamech could not care for them any longer. Adah was not doing well. Especially now that she had received word her husband was gone from this world into the next.

I got down on one knee and lowered my hood as my head bent in a bow. I waited in silence for them to speak. For them to bid me to rise, though I knew they wouldn't until this conversation was over.

"Brother Jobe, son of Jerah, we are pleased you came to us so quickly." Said Mentor Abraham. "We apologize for calling you here, but this matter could not wait any longer. We need to know the truth about the betrayal and arrest of Malik ibn'Hasan so we may decide how best to deal with him."

"I understand, Mentor." I said. "I only ask we get through this matter quickly so I may see to my wife and son."

"This matter will go as quickly as we can. But there are many matters we must discuss. Malik ibn'Hasan is only the first." Mentor Mus'ab said, gruffly.

I said nothing and only waited to hear more.

"Tell us what Malik ibn'Hasan told you that day in the library." Said Mentor Myles. He was gentler but just as commanding as his counterparts and I felt compelled to respond.

I told them everything in great detail, leaving out Esther's message to me as I left the house that day. Everything from the weather to the things we had seen to the names of the Brethren we'd passed on the street. I described our circuit around Rosewood, the roads we took and how we'd walked on opposite sidewalks from one another. I described coming to the Temple and seeing the light in the Great Library—or rather, how Lamech had seen the light on in the Great Library that night—and how we'd split up and circled the Temple. How I found the broken fire exit door. How we went into the Great Library and found Malik searching tomes and scrolls, and how he had opened the Locked Case—which was forbidden—and was reading the materials within. I described the treasonous words he'd spoken and described him as mad. While I spoke, my words were even until I described Lamech's death by Malik's sword. I took several breaths to stop myself from crying for the brother I had come to care for more than myself. I didn't want to go on but I knew the Mentors would not allow me to cease my explanation, so I finished the verbal report and waited for them to speak.

I heard Mus'ab shift in his seat and clear his throat. "Brother Jobe, could you please describe Malik ibn'Hasan's last words to you and your partner-brother Lamech?" He said. "I wish to hear them again."

I could still see the Great Library perfectly in my mind. Could still see Malik's face as he drew his sword and heard the words spouting from his lips. My mouth struggled to shape the Arabic language and I hoped I hadn't offended the Muslim Mentor before me and my Muslim brothers around me.

"Almawt 'iilaa 'uwfirlurds."

There was a murmur among the five other Muslim Hashshashin. All of them speaking Arabic in tones that did not bode well with me.

"'Death to the overlords'." Mus'ab translated for the rest of us.

"Do you mean to say he meant to overthrow us all?" Myles asked Mus'ab.

"Perhaps." Mus'ab answered. "Though I doubt he was acting of his own accord."

"I believe so as well." Abraham said, agreeably. "Tell me, what was the last off-world mission he conducted? Where did he go that fed him lies about who we are and what we do?"

"I sent him to Baghdad to meet with the Bureau Leader, Hanif, for mission details." Mus'ab answered.

"And who sent Hanif to guard the Bureau there?" Myles asked.

"You misunderstand, Brother Myles," Mus'ab began. "Hanif was not born one of our Order. He was born in Baghdad and raised within the Bureau itself. We had an agreement with his father, Aaqil, to allow one of our numbers to use the Bureau during missions."

"Even so, we should investigate this Hanif ibn'Aaqil. Find out what he knows and why he decided to turn one of our own against us." Myles suggested.

"Indeed." Abraham agreed.

I took this as an opportunity. Even without the Mentors' permission, I rose and looked Abraham in the eye. "Please, Mentor, send me. I want to hear Hanif's own words with my own ears."

The Mentors were silent. They stared at me, straight-faced. Showing neither anger, nor surprise, nor happiness, nor disappointment. It seemed as thought they were expecting this.

Finally, Mentor Myles cleared his throat. "Very well, Brother Jobe. We will permit you to go. Not alone. You are still an _anfi zab_ , and as such, you must be protected by a malp."

I did not say anything for there was nothing to say. Lamech was gone. He couldn't protect me anymore. Since the Mentors had assigned him to me twelve years ago, it was only right they assign me a new _malp._

"Fear not. We have already found one for you." Myles went on.

"Brother Ranen, your former partner-brother's cousin, has been selected to look out for you. He has proven himself worthy to be your new partner-brother." Abraham said.

"We understand your feelings on this matter." Myles said. "We understand you loved Brother Lamech and we respect that. However, you are not permitted to leave the commune until you have been appropriately bonded with a new _malp."_

"If you wish to proceed with your desire to go to Baghdad and see to the scoundrel, Hanif, then please honor our request and meet with Brother Ranen." Mus'ab said.

I knew there wasn't anything else for it. I nodded my consent but I had more to add. "Mentors, I respect your wishes and I will meet with Brother Ranen. However, I have a request to make in regards to my partner-brother's son, Noah." I said.

"State your request." Abraham said.

"Mentors, the boy's mother is not long for this world. I feel as though Lamech's spirit is calling to her from Heaven and wishes for her to join him. I ask that you allow the boy to enter my home so I might raise him as my son alongside my own son, Nathaniel."

Abraham frowned but it was Mus'ab who spoke. "This is not a request you can make, Brother Jobe. The boy has blood relatives among us who can provide him with a good home just as much as you can. We have already decided that once our sister, Adah, has gone from this life into the next, the babe will be given to his father's next of kin."

"Brother Lamech has hardly spoken with his next of kin." I reasoned. "These people only barely know of Noah's existence and will hardly be prepared to accept him into their home as one of their own. At best, you are looking at foster care. A foster parent will not provide him with the love he deserves.

"My wife, Esther, and I have already spoken about this. Lamech and I have already discussed this. We made a pact between our two families that should one of us die, the one living shall take the other one's children into his home as his own child." I dropped down to both knees and folded my hands together. I wasn't too proud to beg. "Please. Allow me this chance to honor my promise to my partner-brother. I swear to you the boy will be loved and well cared for within my house."

"And what if your wife, Esther, presents you with another son? And another? And another? Will you still care for him as if he was your own even then?" Myles asked.

"You ask me that question because I am not of Lamech's blood. But have you asked the same of Lamech's relatives? I will swear to you on whatever you want, the boy will not be cast out of my house if my wife gives me more sons. We have more than enough room to spare and more than enough love to go around." I said.

The Mentors did not speak to me a moment, choosing instead to speak with one another in hushed tones. I waited patiently on both knees. Hands still folded as though in prayer. Watching them. I was prepared to swear on the Creed, my sword, my life, even the ancient texts should they ask it of me. I would spend the rest of my days pleading with them until they relented if I had to. I didn't have enough pride to stop me from fulfilling my obligation to my partner brother.

Finally, the Mentors broke away and Abraham addressed me.

"Your wife . . . has she spent much time with the babe?" He asked.

I nodded. "She is in Lamech's house caring for his wife and child as we speak. She has taken the boy into her arms and she loves him as much as she loves the boy of her own womb."

"Very well. We shall take your plea into account. Our decision on where the boy should go has not been made. Nor have we spoken with Brother Lamech's relatives on this matter." Abraham said.

"You shall have our decision once you have returned from Baghdad." Mus'ab said. "We ask that you bring Hanif ibn'Aaqil before us so we may properly judge him."

I got up and bowed. "I understand, Mentors." I said.

"Go. Go and find your new _malp."_ Abraham said. "You should be able to locate him in the training yard.

The Mentors dismissed me with a wave and I left the Temple to find my new partner-brother, Ranen. I found him precisely where Mentor Abraham said he would be. Mentor Obadiah was overseeing the training ring outside the Temple and Ranen was inside the ring with a perspective brother. Both were wielding wooden training sword and the perspective brother wasn't doing so well against his opponent.

I approached Obadiah and watched at the trainer's side. Obadiah only acknowledged my presence by nodding his head, but his full attention was on the spectacle before him.

"I'm here to meet Ranen." I muttered to Obadiah and was startled to see a smirk crossing the trainer's face. "Why is that funny?" I asked him.

"The Mentors assigned you to Ranen? Our present day Sampson?" Obadiah chuckled. "I do not envy you, Brother Jobe."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Ranen is not Lamech. Not in any way, shape, or form. Cousins they may be, but those two apples have fallen very far from their own tree." Obadiah explained.

"Which one is he?" I asked Obadiah while turning my attention to the spectators and fighters.

Obadiah pointed with one finger at the big man practicing against the smaller apprentice. "There's your new Malp, Aah."

Ranen was not at all what I expected. He looked nothing like Lamech. Where Lamech was slender, he was also built; taking great care and great lengths to be sure he could still fight with a sword and run and jump and climb and throw his enemies to the ground. Ranen was built like a bull and clearly looked as though he bench pressed frequently. He was vast in chest and girth. Clearly, the seamstresses had to custom make his uniform so it would fit him without being cumbersome. His long sword and short sword had been removed from his back and waist for the purposes of training and was leaning against a post at the edge of the fighting pit. Both were longer and thicker than the usual swords the rest of us carried.

Yes, compared to the rest of us, Ranen was a giant and I felt sorry for the novice who had been talked into taking up a wooden sword against this brute.

The novice swung his sword at Ranen and the bigger man knocked it from his grasp. A startled look crossed the novice's face and he raised his hands.

 _"Lhkian_ ' _ea!"_ The boy squealed. "I yield! I yield!"

Ranen grunted and stalked away from the trembling youth without a word. It occurred to me Ranen did not yield and probably viewed yielding as a form of cowardice.

He went to the blacksmith's shop built into the shelter of the Temple and threw his wooden sword down. As he stalked back to Obadiah, he seized his short sword and put it on, then picked up his long sword and carried it with one hand.

"Fifteen that's been." He grumbled to the Trainer. "Fifteen green boys who can barely take a hit. How can they expect victory when all they do is yield when their swords are knocked from their hands?"

"They are only training, Brother Ran." Obadiah reasoned. "It will be time enough for them to venture out on their own."

"When that time comes around, I will be old and grey." He gestured with a large hand at the gathered spectators around him. "Is this the best we can produce? Are our bloodlines so thin we cannot produce strong stock? These boys are still wishing for their mother's arms! Never shall they see battle or taste victory!"

Obadiah gave the giant a smile. "They are still learning, Brother Ran. Eventually they shall see battle and taste victory. Never you fear. _You_ were the same once."

Ranen grunted and shifted his dark gaze toward me. "What is your name?" He asked.

"Jobe, son of Jerah. The Mentors have assigned me to you." I said.

Ranen ran his fingers through his dark curls as he sized me up. I wondered why the Mentors deemed him fit to be my partner-brother. He seemed too proud. Partner-brothers were assigned out of inheritance, but also matched so they complimented one another. Sometimes we changed one another for the better. I wasn't sure how they expected Ranen to change me, or how I was to change Ranen.

"I never wanted to be a _malp."_ Ranen said. "My father never was one, nor his father before him. That had always been my grandfather's brother's side of the family. The one your former partner-brother, Lamech, comes from. Is there no one else the Mentors can assign you? No other relative of Lamech's to take you?"

"The Mentors have spoken, Brother Ran. I would be a fool to question their authority." I said.

"A fool, indeed." Obadiah said.

"I am not Lamech. My cousin and I have rarely spoken outside Passover celebrations and Hanukkah. You should bear that in mind when you are with me." Ranen warned.

"I understand you are not Lamech. Lamech and I were brothers once and I loved him as a brother." I said.

 _"Philia."_ Obadiah said. "Brotherly love."

"Your brother he might have been, but he was my cousin. And I share no love for him." Ranen said. He strapped his long sword to his waist while still watching me. Despite his size, he was still very dexterous in his hands and fingers. "It is because of _you_ he died that night. He died protecting you. And now the Mentors ask the same of _me?"_

"Your cousin died preventing a rebellion." Obadiah reasoned. "He died a hero with the Creed in his heart. You would do well to speak his name softly and with reverence."

Ranen cast Obadiah a scornful look. "He died a fool. Why should I do the same?" He turned his gaze to me. "You tell the Mentors to name someone else. I want no part of this partner-brother business. Let me alone. I have always done better without the hindrance of another man at my back."

"It has already been decided Brother Ran. I may not like this choice either—I would have preferred Lamech lived—but what's done is done. Wishing my _malp_ alive will not make it so. Lamech has no other siblings, no closer cousins from his grandfather's lineage to take his place. I wish I could say it otherwise, but I cannot. It must be you."

Ranen grumbled darkly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"At least give it a chance. Perhaps working with a partner-brother will surprise you." Obadiah said.

Another grumble from the big man. Finally, he nodded. "One mission. One mission together to decide whether we are as good a match as the Mentors say. If we are not, then _you_ shall explain to the Mentors why you wish to seek out another in Lamech's stead."

I did not know Ranen well, but I could tell this was as good a deal as I was going to get from him. I offered my hand, the left one, to him and tried not to wince as he enclosed his hand around mine. Our pact was now sealed and I hoped it would be the last pact I would have to make this day.


	5. Chapter Four

_Hello, my readers._

 _It's been a while since I last updated. I won't make any apologies. It just took me some time to get the kinks worked out is all._

 _This chapter was written as a collab between myself and my friend, Kawaii Stella. She wrote the first part of this chapter in the 3rd person POV and I rewrote it in the 1st person POV as Arella. The last part of this story was written via text message until I finally decided the chapter was done. Therefore, I hope you enjoy it._

 _I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Because I'm enjoying writing this. Please R &R._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| Chapter Four |

 **~Arella's POV~**

It was an early spring night in Aldenmor when the moon was half full. I was exhausted from my pregnancy, went to bed early. It wasn't long before my beloved lord husband joined me, having left our children under his sister's caring eye; he snuggled me close.

"You're early." I whispered sleepily.

"I wanted to be with you." Sar said. His strong arms wound around me, a hand rubbing my very swollen belly. I heard him smile when he felt a tiny foot press against his fingers. "Three days and two months until we meet them." Sar mused, kissing my shoulder.

"May fifteenth seems so far away. I don't know if I can make it that long." I relaxed against my husband's strong chest.

"You can. You are the strongest person I know."

One of the babies kicked. Sar declared that the baby was agreeing with him. I dozed off, exhausted by the toll that carrying twins took. Shortly before midnight, I awoke with stabbing pains in my belly. None like she had ever felt in a previous pregnancy.

"Sar!" I cried. "Sartorius, wake up!"

"What's wrong?" Sar asked, sitting up to hold me.

"Something's not right!" I panted, clutching my belly. "Something's very wrong!"

Sar threw the covers aside and found the wet sheets beneath me. I could tell his heart was constricting by the look on his face. My water had broken. But why? There was still so much time left to go!

A sudden change came over his face. No longer was he my lord husband, but the doctor he had become years ago. He had gone into medical mode. And time was ticking.

"Let's get you to the hospital." Sar told me.

He dressed quickly, wrapped me in a long coat, then ushered me through a portal to Aldenmor Memorial Hospital where he worked many days of the week.

"Arella's gone into labor. Please get Dr. Chandler." Sar told the practitioner in the emergency bay.

Janette paged for Dr. Chandler and ushered us into a private room. Things seemed to blur as they put me in a gown, then a bed, then attaching all sorts of monitors. Meanwhile, my lord husband would alternate between medical professional and husband. Stroking my hair or holding my hand one minute, snapping orders another.

"It's okay. We'll make everything okay." Sar promised me as he stroked my hair while I cried. A sharp contraction ran through my belly and I squeezed his hand tightly. "Shh, sweetheart. Breath. Just breathe."

Despite his words, I could tell he, too, was terrified. Their attempts to get us settled wasn't working. They kept saying my blood pressure wasn't right. Whenever they got my heart rate down, the babies' heart rates went up. We both knew that wasn't good. The doctor brought in an ultrasound machine to see what was causing the problem. It was quickly seen that the two babies were tangled in their umbilical cords. An emergency cesarean would have to be performed immediately.

I clutched at Sar's hand. We'd never had a pregnancy go wrong like this. "Sar, I'm so scared." I confessed.

"I know, love. I'm scared too." Sar said, kissing my forehead. "We'll do everything we can do."

I was prepped quickly for surgery and things began to go in slow motion. I was hyper aware of every needle prick, every scent of blood and antiseptic, and every voice around me. My lord husband sat by my head, ready to bite me when Dr. Chandler told him to. The first bite came and I squeezed his hand as his venom went through me and to the first twin born.

A boy, the doctor announced for the whole room to hear.

I barely caught a glance of my new son before a nurse took him and put him inside a neonatal unit. My tiny baby did cry which put my heart at ease. The cries blurred when Sar bit me again, more venom went through my veins.

A girl! Dr. Chandler sounded pleased with this.

I forced my eyes open, searching for my daughter. I almost didn't see her. The infant was barely bigger than the doctor's hand. A sob escaped my lips. Sar beng over and pressed his cheek to mine. His skin was wet. He was crying too. He truly was as frightened as I was.

Things blurred again as they stitched me up. I wanted Sar to check on the babies but I also didn't want him to leave me. He never moved from my side, watching from afar as the doctors worked over our children.

They put me in a very private room with our children. Dr. Chandler came in and sat down with us.

"Arella, Sartorius…" Dr. Chandler had been present for every birth of a Shovat child, and considered us his friends. Which made what he was about to say much harder. "The twins, at this stage, are not totally developed. Due to them being twins, they are also smaller than babies of this developmental point. That, combined with the fact that each had their cord around their neck twice, does not leave them in good shape."

My face fell, as did Sar's. We knew what this meant and it made us very afraid.

"The boy…"

"Chazz," I croaked. "His name is Chazz." We had discussed the names at length before Dr. Chandler came in.

"Chazz," Dr. Chandler corrected, "is the stronger of the two. Even so, I don't foresee him surviving more than a week. The girl. . ."

"Dove." I choked out through a sob.

"Dove . . . may not live more than a few days. She is very weak. I am so sorry." Chandler said, and he meant it. We knew he hated this part of his job. He would save every baby if he could. Especially these two.

"I encourage you to try and enjoy your time with them." Chandler continued. He apologized again, tried to console us. At last, he left us alone.

After a while of sobbing, I forced myself out of bed and Sar tensed.

"Arella, take it easy." He said, his voice raw.

"I will not take it easy, Sar!" I cried. I ripped the needle out of my hand and forced myself to stumble over to my children.

I pressed my hands against the glass of each unit. Sar came up behind me and held me up. Steadying me like the rock he was.

"We aren't going to stop fighting for you." I told my babies. "So don't you ever stop fighting for us!"

\|/

 **~Simon Peter's POV~**

I was well passed asleep when the rude awakening happened. A night guard entered the bunkhouse and kicked at my mattress, rousing me from my sleep before moving on to Nicodemus. As I blinked sleep from my eyes, I saw that it was Astra standing there between my Hashshashin brother and I. And she did not seem pleased.

"Get up! Both of you!" She ordered.

Nicodemus slowly sat up, glaring at our fellow guard. "What is it?" He grumpily demanded.

"We're needed at Aldenmor General." She hissed back at him.

We were up instantly and dressing. Throwing on our gear as quickly as we could while Astra moved about the room waking the others from their slumber. She was not being gentle about it; even going as far as to throw water in Bronn, Robin, and Tristan's faces to wake them from the alcohol induced slumbers. Once the entire bunkhouse was awake, she delivered her instructions.

"The Queen has gone into labor…" she began.

A wild ruckus of surprised voices drowned her out and my heart constricted in my chest.

 _Already?! It's too soon!_ I thought.

"Quiet!" Nicodemus shouted and the whole bunkhouse went silent.

Astra gave him a curt nod of thanks. "You all know what to do. Nicodemus, Simon, and myself are going to the hospital to attend our charges. The rest of you are to check on your own charges. If they're not awake, do not wake them. Stand guard outside their rooms until you receive other orders from either myself or Nicodemus."

Wordlessly, the others also dressed. The three drunkards taking sips of whiskey and rum to help with their hangovers. Then, they all filed out to fulfill their duties while Astra opened a portal and stepped through; Nicodemus and I following suit.

As far as I knew, I had never been to a hospital before. I didn't know what I was going to expect but it wasn't this. Doctors and nurses alike milled about the building talking amongst each other and vanishing into different rooms. Nicodemus gently seized a nurse by the wrist and asked where our Lord and Lady were. The nurse politely directed us to the maternity ward, then warned us we may not gain entrance due to privacy concerns. He thanked her for her help and we went to the maternity ward and stood as sentries there.

Only Nicodemus was permitted back to speak with his Lord. And from the messages he ferried back to us, things weren't looking good. Astra and I only had to wait.

The second message he delivered made Astra go pale. Queen Arella had been taken to something called an OR (which Astra explained was an operating room, not that it made much sense to me) for something called a c-section (which Nicodemus explained meant they were opening her up to take her babies out).

"These sorts of things are either done by choice, or in the event of an emergency." Nicodemus added.

"Is Her Majesty going to be okay?" I asked.

"That's a good question." Astra said. "I'd certainly like to think so."

I'd like to think so, too, I thought.

We waited. And waited. And waited some more. Nicodemus went back to check on the King and Queen and stayed away for some time. When he came back out, he looked sad and I feared the worst.

Apparently, so did Astra for she covered her mouth and said, "Are they…"

"The twins are alive. So is Her Majesty. Unfortunately, the babies are very small. The doctor says the first twin, a boy, will likely live a week. The second twin, a girl, will mostly likely live for a few days."

So soon, I thought. They don't get to live long after drawing their first breaths. The thought saddened me. Despite being what I was, my people still believed children deserved a chance at life. There was no telling what they would be or who they would become, but they at least deserved a chance to become someone. Good or bad—I hoped good—they deserved a chance at something.

"Her Majesty is going to be bedridden for some time," Nicodemus said. "The twins are going to be watched until something happens." He sighed. "Astra, you'll be stationed outside Her Majesty's door until her release. Simon, you'll be stationed wherever the twins are at all times. Your job as their guard starts now."

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and tried to slow my heartrate. "What if," I began. "What if they die? What will happen to me?"

Nicodemus gave me a long look. "I would ask the King about that yourself. I don't have the answer to that question. But, as for now, you need to fulfill the duties you agreed to since the day you were hired."

I only nodded.

A doctor let us back and took us to the private room where the two monarchs and the newborns were located. Astra stood at attention outside the door while Nicodemus and I went in. Nicodemus stood at attention by the door; a silent shadow, alert and focused. I ventured closer to the neonatal unit beside the Queen's bed and looked inside.

The twins were tiny. They were wrapped in blankets of pink and blue with the tiniest caps on their heads. Both children could easily fit in one hand without effort. The boy had hands the size of quarters and the girl had hands the size of nickels. I tried not to wonder how they were going to survive but the thought kept escaping through the cracks in my head and I became sad for it.

I stood there, staring at them. Their tiny, sleeping faces. So innocent yet. I glanced down at the name plates plastered across the bottom of their units.

SHOVAT, Chazz.

SHOVAT, Dove.

This will be the name they will carve on their tombstones, I thought as I stood guard over them for the rest of the night.

The next morning came very early. Sunny skies promised a nice day. Yet, I couldn't help but feel like it wasn't going to be a good day. I remained vigilant, watching everyone who entered the room and left. Watching anyone who tended to Her Majesty and the infant Prince and Princess. I stayed awake, keeping tiredness at bay by thinking of any other than my own fatigue. And I only ate and drank anything if the monarchs ordered me to.

I also tried not to get close to them. They had a time limit. But I couldn't help myself. While the monarchs slept, I decided to try something.

I'd heard from a healer in Rosewood that babies did well if they were held. I cursed my too-kind heart as I removed my gauntlets and gloves and lifted the Princeling from his unit and snuggled him against my chest; slowly rocking him back and forth. Nicodemus only cleared his throat but said nothing. I held the Princeling's head near my beating heart and spoke to him in soft tones.

"Do you hear that, little Prince? That's the sound of a heart. One day, that will be the sound of your heart." I whispered to him.

The Princeling made a small sound in his throat. Something like a fuss but did not begin crying. I smiled as I rocked him. If Prince Chazz did get a chance to live—really live—he would be a strong stubborn one. I could see it now. He was going to be one I would need to keep a close eye on.

After a moment, I put him back in his unit, then lifted out his sister. I was surprised at how little she weighed. I was almost afraid to hold her lest I break her. As I had with her twin, I rocked her; slowly, steadily. Holding her head over my heart.

"Do you hear that, little Princess? That's the sound of a heart. One day, that will be the sound of your heart." I whispered to her.

One of her tiny hands extended from the blanket and grasped the front of my shirt. I felt my heart melt. I didn't want to put her down now. For once, I understood a parent's love. I wanted to defend this little girl. To protect her and always have her back. I never wanted to leave her. Not for a moment.

Every day since then, I repeated this practice while the King and Queen slept. Lifting each twin one at a time from their warm beds and holding them. Placing their heads over my heart as I rocked them and spoke to them. I sang to them ancient songs I'd heard my foster mother sing. I'd let them hold my fingers and sleep against my chest.

I knew I shouldn't get attached, felt I shouldn't hold them without their parent's express consent. I still couldn't help myself.

They deserved to live.

Princess Dove's expiration date came and went and still the Princess lived. Parents and doctors both seemed relieved at this. The Prince's expiration date came and went and still he, too, survived. While both parents and doctors seemed pleased about this, there was still talk about a chance they could lose the children.

The twins stayed in the Queen's hospital room the entire length of her stay. I had heard vampires healed fast but I hadn't seen just how fast until now. When the Queen was ready to go home, so were the twins. Nicodemus, Astra, and I helped move the twins into the King and Queen's room when they were given leave of the hospital. After getting the twins and the Queen situated in the royal master bedroom, I was still ordered to watch over them.

Even inside a large house full of armed guards, the monarchs still wanted their fragile babes to be well guarded. So, I stood guard over them. Watching them. Watching the door. Monitoring the windows. I only left when the King and Queen told me to. I would bow and make my leave, returning the bunkhouse to rest. But I never stayed amongst the other guards long. As soon as Nicodemus finished reading, and Bronn, Tristan, and Robin had finished drinking and gambling, the lights went out. But I would not sleep.

I would silently sneak out and make my way back to the King and Queen's room. Silent as a shadow. Swift as a cat. I would climb the walls and enter through the window on their balcony and watch the babes. I would sit with them on my chest, holding them to me. I knew I couldn't do much for them but they had survived their end-dates. So I was going to do what I could. What I knew how to do.

I sat in the small rocking chair with the Princeling laying on my chest, my hand supporting his rear with my other hand resting on his back. As I leaned my head back, I heard the rustling of sheets and a dark shape sat up in the bed.

"Simon? Is that you?" The King asked.

He sounded groggy and surprised and I felt both fear and guilt rolling around in my stomach. I knew I couldn't hide from him. He was a vampire and it was common knowledge they could see in the dark.

"Yes, Sire. It is I." I said, polite as always.

"Is something wrong with the children?" He asked. I had no doubt he could also see the Princeling in my arms.

"No, Sire. Nothing is wrong." I said.

"What brings you in here?"

"Sometimes, Sire, I like to sit with the babes and hold them. Especially on nights when I can't sleep." I admitted. "I apologize if this offends you or if I am invading your privacy. My intention is to do neither."

"No, no. I was just surprised to see you is all. To see you care about them so much is reassuring." The King rose from his bed and came over the few steps to see his children.

I gently massaged the Princeling's back, listening to him breathe. "I like to care for them." I said. "And they seem to like me holding them."

"They do enjoy being held. Being so small, they love the warmth." The King picked up the tiny Princess and cuddled her to his chest. "When they are a little bigger, we will move them into the nursery, but for now we like them here."

Princess Dove gave her father a sleepy coo, a tuft of white hair showing brightly against her father's dark shirt.

"Is it because you and The Queen are still concerned about the possibility of losing them, Your Highness?" I asked.

"It is. They are still so delicate, they're immune systems are still developing. And sometimes Dove has an arrhythmia that concerns us."

I frowned. "Arrhythmia, Sire?" I asked.

"An arrhythmia is an irregular heartbeat. It's not always irregular, like right now, it's very normal, but occasionally it will get off beat."

"That sounds bad. Is it dangerous?"

"It can be. She may one day grow out of it, or it may one day lead to something more serious. Only time will tell."

"I hope it doesn't lead to something more dangerous." I said, truthfully.

"I truly hope not, too. Heart surgery on children is a risky business. It's gotten better in recent years, but it's still a delicate work. Especially on one so small."

I turned my eyes away from the King to the tiny babe he held in his hands. She was, indeed, still so very small. Barely taking up his arm from palm to elbow. I'd never seen babes so small before and with Rosewood being so vast, seeing babes were common among new and growing families.

"Sire, is it true you can see the future?" I asked, boldly. Even in the moonlight, I could see the surprised look on his regal face. "Guards talk, Sire, and I've heard talk that you wear the skin of a fox. That you read minds and can see things before they happen. Is it true?"

"It is true." He said.

I nodded to the babe in his arms. "Do you see her future?"

"Bits and pieces."

"What do you see, Sire? If you don't mind me asking."

"She will have a long road ahead of her, but she will grow up to be strong."

"Does this mean she will live?" I asked.

"I believe so."

Relief went through me. I hadn't realized I had been so tense.

The King smiled at me. "They may have problems now and then, but they've already come so far."

I nodded as I got up and placed the Princeling back in his crib. "So they have, Sire. And for that, I am grateful. Yahweh is being kind."

Princess Dove stirred in her father's arms, letting out a wide yawn and a squeak.

"Don't tell me you're becoming a night owl already, Dovelyn." Her father teased.

"They are used to my touch this time of night, Sire." I said. Though I craved to take her into my arms, I could feel sleep calling my name and I knew I should return to my bunk before long.

"Ah ha, I see. Simon will have all the time in the world to cuddle you tomorrow, Dovey. He needs to sleep just like you do."

The little babe let out a coo at her father.

I smiled as I cupped the white-haired babe's head in my palm. " _Leylh tevb, nesyekh_." I said to her in Hebrew. In English, I said, "Good night, Princess."

Bowing, I left the room and returned to the comforts of my warm bunk.


	6. Chapter Five

_Hello, my readers._

 _I don't have much to say about this chapter. It took me a while to write it because I had other chapter ideas floating around in my head. So, yeah. There's that._

 _I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Because I'm enjoying writing this. Please R &R._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| Chapter Five |

 **~Jobe's POV~**

 **~March in Baghdad~**

It was Springtime in Baghdad was not at all what I expected. Aldenmor had springs that were warmer than winter with plenty of rainfall, but cooler than summer. Baghdad was warm. Stepping through the portal from a cool forty degrees into Baghdad where the temperature read seventy had us both sweating. Or would have had us sweating if we hadn't been more prepared to meet the heat.

Ranen grumbled about the heat as he straightened out the harness his short sword and thrown daggers hung from and I wordlessly nodded along in agreement to his complaints. Though, unlike him, I liked being warm. What I didn't like was going into hostile territory as it was very clear to the two of us we were in a region that did not take kindly to Jews. Even a half-Jew such as I would have to stay on guard.

We stayed in the suburbs in an attempt to keep out of unwelcoming eyes. Before long, we were spotted by a man dressed in the garb of an Iraqi Hashshashin. Light colored, light-weight robes. Thick boots. The blood-red sash tied about his waist beneath the sword and thrown knives belt. He carried no short sword, but a strange curved sword poked over his shoulder and another one hung at his hip. His face was masked beneath his hood and turban. He wore two hidden blades, one on his right arm, the other on his left. The left one was built in the traditional manner, even down to the ritualistic removal of his ring finger. But the one on his right had a bent hook.

He motioned for us to follow him and he led us to the Bureau. There, we had to climb the rooftops and drop into the herb garden below. Then, we were lead into the main section of the Bureau where we were met by others garbed the same way. They stood about the Bureau, still as statues with only their dark eyes following us. It was easy to see which one was Hanif ibn'Aaqil by the black robe he wore over his white garb. His face was uncovered but his turban remained intact.

Hanif rose from his stool and opened his arms to us. "Ah, Brothers. Welcome to Baghdad. How might we address you?"

We did not kneel. Kneeling was for the Mentors and Hanif only ran a Bureau.

"I am Jobe, son of Jerah." I said. "This is my partner-brother, Renan, son of Ezekiel. We have been sent here by the Mentors of our Order in Aldenmor to investigate the recent betrayal by one of our own."

"Betrayal?" Hanif had been smiling. Now he wasn't. His dark skin seemed to go pale and he appeared nervous now. "Betrayal is a grievous thing, but I do not understand what this has to do with my order."

Ranen stepped closer. He towered over Hanif and the other man shrank beneath my partner-brother's girth. "A grievous thing, indeed. We have reason to believe our former brother, Malik ibn'Hasan, who came here some time ago on a mission, has received some misinformation."

Hanif was very silent for some time. The room was also very silent. I could hear the Mosque bells ringing in the distance and count the breaths of the sentinels around the room.

"Misinformation?" Hanif finally said. He had a nervous twitch about him. "I don't think I understand what you're implying. Nor do I understand what it has to do with me or my order."

"Malik ibn'Hasan came here on a mission by the order of our Brotherhood. As is tradition, you offered him sanctuary within this very Bureau." I said.

"True, we do offer sanctuary to traveling _Alqatala_ here, as do many Bureaus across the world. Unfortunately, we see so many Alqatala all the time. I can't say I even remember this . . . Malik ibn'Hasan."

"You may not be able to remember Malik, but he remembered you." Ranen said. He had been briefed prior to our coming here and was well aware of what happened in the Great Library, though he admitted he'd never even spoken to Malik. Not even in passing. "He spoke of overthrowing the Mentors—our mentors."

"I can't say I ever suggested he overthrow his mentors." Hanif said. "Therefore, your search is in vain. And you have no reason to continue your questioning."

"He said you, Hanif ibn'Aaqil, encouraged him. You spoke to him and told him he wasn't a true Muslim." I said.

"Then I would say he was mad. Clinically insane. Perhaps it is best you hadn't trusted him to begin with." Hanif said.

"Enough with your excuses, Hanif." Ranen said. He banged his palms flat on the table and the crash sounded about the room. The sentinels standing around us put their hands to the hilts of their swords. Ranen cast them all a glare, snarling. "Put your toys away, fools!" He spat at them. Slowly, they dropped their hands and he turned his attention back to Hanif. "Before you came into picture, Malik was sound of mind. It wasn't until after he met you that he began talking of treason."

"I don't know what you want me to say." Hanif said. "Perhaps the mission had been too much for him and he couldn't handle it."

"He's never had an issue with a mission before." I said. "I knew Malik personally. Until this one, he was entirely devoted to our order. This mission was no different than any others he's carried out."

"Our mentors would like to speak with you personally." Ranen said. "If you come with us peacefully, you will not be harmed."

"And if I don't?" Hanif asked. He sounded curious but I detected a certain level of defiance. Perhaps even suggesting a threat.

"Then we shall take you by force." Ranen said.

"Force?" Here, Hanif smiled as he looked around Ranen's wide shoulder to the sentinels gathered around us. "In case you haven't noticed, you are outnumbered as well as trespassers in hostile territory. Muslims and Jews do not see eye to eye here on Earth. Something you seemed to have forgotten since your people went to that . . . other world."

"We haven't forgotten." I said. "We have simply worked through our differences so we could live in harmony. The life as a Hashshashin means we need to see past differences to work towards a commonality. Something even people of your world should attempt to do the same."

"Things have been this way for many a millennium. No one wants to find a change. No one wants to found grounds of commonality. Malik needed to see that. As do all your Muslim brothers." Hanif said.

"So you admit you remember Malik ibn'Hasan." Ranen growled.

"Yes. I admit it. I remember Malik. But, as I said, you have no power here."

Ranen's growl deepened. He understood the truth of Hanif's words. We had come alone. No allies at our back. If we started a scene here, all of Baghdad would know we were here. All of Baghdad would know two Jews had come and started trouble with a Muslim sect.

All hell would break loose in the Middle East.

Jews and Muslims would war here. The Muslims accusing the Jews of espionage and the Jews accusing the Muslims of spreading anti-semantic propaganda. Our hands were tied and I had wished the Mentors had foreseen this happening.

"If you will not come peacefully," Ranen began, "then we shall return with a full force to take you."

Hanif did not miss the unveiled threat in Ranen's voice. Though, that did not seem to bother him. "I don't see why your Mentors would even want to bother with a small Bureau such as this. Surely we are too small—too insignificant—for them. Yet, you come here with accusations of planting the seed of doubt in the mind of one of your own. Perhaps it is not _I_ they need to be looking in to? Perhaps you should be looking in _them?_ Perhaps you should begin questioning their authority if they feel the need to silence any doubt in their power and ability?"

"Watch yourself, Hanif." Ranen warned.

"Your father, Aaqil, made a bargain with our Mentors before you were born. He ran this Bureau and we needed a place for our traveling Hashshashin to stay should they come this way on a mission." I reminded Hanif. "What would your father say if he knew his own son was breaking a vow?"

"I'm certain my father would not mind at all. Had he known our Muslim brothers had sided with Jews and Greeks, he would not have agreed to this bargain." Hanif said, nonchalantly. "As for taking this Bureau, a war between our two orders would benefit no one. My alqatala do not fear death, as I am certain, neither do you."

"We are not here to split hairs over who is braver in the face of death." I said. "We are attempting to avoid a war if we can help it. My mentors are only interested in what you have to say. There is no need to shed blood over this matter." I took a scroll from my belt pouch and passed it over to Ranen who handed it to Hanif. "This is the order we were given by our mentors. They only ask you appear before them and speak with them. That is all. If they find no harm in your words, you can return to your Bureau. If they feel you are not up to the standards of Bureau Leader, they will appoint someone else to do the job."

Hanif frowned. "They cannot take my Bureau from me!" He spat.

"Of course they can't. But there are many Hashshashin organizations around the world and our mentors are willing to confer with them on the matter. Either way, until this matter is settled, my order lays claim to the Bureau due to the current circumstances." I said.

"As we said, you can come quietly or more of our people will come for you." Ranen said. I did not need to look at him to know he was smiling with the idea of taking Hanif to Aldenmor with us one way or another. "What's it going to be, Hanif ibn'Aaqil? If you really were a leader of a Bureau, you would want to preserve as much Hashshashin life as you could. None of your men need to die without cause and no war needs to occur between us." He turned his head to the five sentinels on his left. "I'm certain many of these men have families they would like to raise up into Hashshashin. Think of all the families that will be torn apart. I don't know about you, but I would like to prevent that."

The sentinels looked at each other, then back at Hanif. Ranen had struck a cord with them. And I could see the question in their eyes. _Was Hanif worthy of leading us?_

Hanif also noticed the doubt in their eyes. He breathed a heavy sigh and tossed the opened scroll back to us. "Fine." He said. "I shall go to Aldenmor with you. I shall stand before you mentors and explain the situation. Though, being foreigners in this land, I doubt the other orders would be so kind as to confer with them to appoint a new head here."

Ranen smiled at Hanif. "We'll see about that." He said.

\|/

Hanif did come quietly, having not done so until the Bureau was closed and all the Hashshashin sent back to their homes until the Bureau could be opened again. True to his word, Hanif stepped through the portal with us and we took him before our mentors. No sooner had he stepped into the Counsel Chamber than Ranen and I were sent away. We had suspected Hanif was now on trial before the mentors, but we had not needed to tell him that.

As Ranen and I departed the Counsel Chamber, Ranen pulled me aside and made me sit beside him in the Tabernacle. The big man did not look at me, but instead faced the Star of David mounted on the altar before him. He breathed a deep sigh. His caramel-colored skin still damp from the desert heat and his black curls clung to his forehead and neck.

"I told you one _mission—one—to_ see if we were a good match for one another." He said. His deep voice carried far across the Tabernacle, even at a whisper. His hand uncurled from the fists they had formed at his knees and he shut his eyes. "I also said I never wanted to be a malp. This is still true. My grandfather's line had always been dismissed as malps so it surprises me the Mentors deem it necessary to turn to one of my family to take that title."

"You are Lamech's cousin." I said. "The cycle of inheritance now turns to you."

"Yes, I know. But as you have seen, I am not Lamech. I wanted to crush that man's skull for the atrocious words spouting from his lips—I'm sure you noticed that." Ranen said.

"I did notice, but you kept calm." I said.

"I did not expect to stay so calm." Ranen admitted. "I've always been more fighter than philosopher. I preferred to settle things with my blade instead of with words or mind. Yet, with you there, my blade was the last thing from my mind." He opened his eyes and looked at me. "They say partner-brothers bring out the best in one another. Change things in one another that hadn't been changed before. I'd like to think you have already changed me."

"I would like to think there's some part of you that wants that change." I said, gently. "That there's some part of you that wants to see things in a way that doesn't involve bloodshed."

Ranen nodded. "I do want to solve things with my mind instead of with steel. Perhaps this partnership would not be such a bad thing. Perhaps I judged too quickly." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his fingers together. "I am not Lamech and I cannot be Lamech. He and I are nothing alike and we share too little blood to be similar. But I feel it would be an insult to his memory if I cast you aside so quickly without first seeing how well this partnership can go. I shall continue to be your partner-brother. I shall guard your back and protect you and uphold your honor." He held out his left hand.

I smiled as I twisted in the pew and clasped his hand with mine. "I shall guard your back and protect you and uphold your honor." I told him.

Ranen's smile was gentle, devoid of the savagery he had displayed earlier. "I certainly hope so, anfi zab." He said.

There was the sound of a throat clearing behind us and we turned in the pew to see one of our brothers, Michael, sitting behind us. Michael was three years younger than me, but I knew him well. He had grown up fast and well and was an accomplished Hashshashin soon to become a Mentor himself. As for the moment, Michael was content to follow the Mentors' orders to perform missions outside Rosewood with no plans for the foreseeable future to retire and begin giving orders.

Michael's gaze was upon me now and I nodded at him, willing him to speak.

"The Mentors asked me to speak with you on a matter you had brought up with them before you departed for Baghdad." He said. "Since you left Rosewood, Lamech's wife, Adah, had passed away and left her infant son behind. The Mentors had planned to give the boy to Lamech's fourth cousin, Boaz, to raise. However, when Mentor Abraham had gone to Adah's house to bless her body, he had seen how your own wife, Esther, cared for the infant boy. And how your own infant son, Nathaniel, has bonded with Lamech's boy, Noah. The Mentors do not wish to separate the two and Esther has obviously grown fond of the boy Noah."

My heartrate accelerated with excitement for I knew what Michael was about to say. I felt saddened by the news of Adah's death but I knew she was not long for this world. She had been sick before Lamech died and news of her beloved husband's death had only seemed to make things worse.

"If nothing has changed, Mentor Abraham would like you to take Noah into your home to raise as your own." Michael said, his voice breaking into my thoughts.

"Of course. My wife, Esther, and I have both spoken about this matter at length. We would be pleased to take Noah into our home." I said.

"Then what's done is done." Michael said. "Noah shall be your responsibility. You are to raise him in the way his father intended. Is that understood?"

I nodded. Indeed, I would raise him as Lamech intended. Teaching him the word of God and raising him by the Creed. I would raise him as I would raise my own son. The Mentors did not need to fear anything contradictory from me.

"Then I wish you luck. Safety and peace, Brother." Michael said as he left the pew and the Tabernacle.


	7. Chapter Six

_Hello, my readers._

 _Okay, wow, I really suck at keeping up with things. I thought I had this posted already. Turns out I didn't and I apologize for that because I'd had it finished for about a month now._

 _This chapter is another co-op chapter with my best friend and writing partner, Kawaii Stella. I'd wanted to write this chapter for a while and it just so happened the timing was right for her because she was also in the mood to work on the contents of this chapter as well. We went back and forth on this. Constructing sentences and character conversations. So, I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it with my friend._

 _I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Because I'm enjoying writing this. Please R &R._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| Chapter Six |

 **~Simon Peter's POV~**

 **~Two Years Later~**

Since my role as a glorified babysitter began, I found myself rather enjoying it. I grew to love it just as much as I grew to love the twin whose parents placed under my care and protection.

I found myself rising early each day, anxious to see them again and begin my job as their protector. I found myself enjoying those loud moments with them in the nursery as they played. Enjoying changing diapers and bathing them and feeding them. But I especially enjoyed those quiet moments when they would nap and I would watch them sleep. I found myself coddling them when they refused to sleep, sitting with them in my lap in the rocking chair; humming Hebrew lullabies until they finally slept. And I found it hard to abandon them at night when it was time to go to the bunkhouse.

Nicodemus had noticed how far I was going with the twins. What I was doing with them and for them. He also noticed my bunk was sometimes empty at night as I snuck away to visit with them. The older man frowned at me over breakfast one morning, which was nothing new as he frowned at me often since my arrival here. As the others geared up and headed out to begin their duties, Nicodemus held me back.

"You shouldn't get so close to them, Simon Peter." He cautioned me with such contempt. "They may be human now but they won't be for long."

"I know. They are the royal children. It's expected of them to be changed when they come of age." I said.

"It isn't just that. I see you sneak out at night and sneak back in a few hours later. I know what you're doing and it simply isn't done. It shouldn't be done. You are their guard. Not their friend. They don't need a friend, they need a protector. That's what you were hired to do and you'd best start remembering that." Nicodemus growled.

"Why do you make it sound like I'm doing something wrong?" I asked. "His Majesty, the King, is well aware of what I do with them. If he wanted to rebuke me, he would've done so already. Instead, he's told me what a relief it is to know his children are being looked after so well. Yet, here you are, throwing accusations around as though I'm breaking some sort of moral code."

"You _are_ breaking a moral code, Simon Peter." Nicodemus said. "You are breaking our _Creed._ Remember, you are on assignment. Which means you shouldn't allow yourself to get so close to these people. If the Mentors find out how close you are to them, they can take you away and replace you with someone more suited for the job."

I sat on my bunk and laced up my boots. "Who is more suited for the job than me? The King chose me to guard his children and I shall do just that."

Nicodemus crossed his arms, left over right. His frown deepened and I wondered if he had ever smiled once in his life. "The Mentors own you, remember? You owe them your life—your very existence. If they do not feel you can complete a mission, they can take you from them just as quickly as they gave you to them. Never forget that fact, Simon Peter. Never forget it for one minute."

I stood up to cinch up my sword belt. The long sword they had given me upon my arrival here slapped against my thigh with each hard tug at the belt. Nicodemus was half a head smaller than I yet, I could still look him in the eye. Such deep, blue eyes they were. Those close-cut golden locks had lightened slightly to gray. I hadn't realized until now just how old Nicodemus actually was.

I knew Nicodemus was Greek. But unlike most Greeks within the Brotherhood, he wasn't an anfi zab. If he was, the Brotherhood wouldn't have given him to King Sartorius so willingly. In fact, Nicodemus would've been confined to Rosewood with the other anfi zab, only ever allowed to leave when on missions and never without a malp there to guide and protect him. Nicodemus was one of the few Greeks here who didn't have the anfi zab gene and I doubted he even carried it.

"What is your real problem with me, Nicodemus?" I asked. "Ever since I came here, you've been hounding me about many different things. But when was the last time the Mentors ever called on you to do anything? When was the last time you've been home?"

Nicodemus' eyes narrowed and his gaze turned hard. "I have resigned to being here for the rest of my able-bodied years. Soon, when I retire, I will leave this place and return to Rosewood. It is my duty, and now it is yours. And I expect you to do your job as a true member of the Brotherhood would."

I slipped the gloves on my hands, flexing my fingers until they fit just right while I returned Nicodemus' glare. "I am doing my job. As long as I am with them, I am guarding them. What difference does it make how I do it?"

"You are distracting yourself by playing with them. By letting them sleep on your chest, you are leaving yourself open to attack. You're making yourself vulnerable when you do these things." He warned.

"I know what I'm doing, Nicodemus." I said. "The King and Queen have hired me to guard the twins. You might be the head guard here, but my orders come from the King or Queen. Not from you." I said.

Nicodemus snorted. "Your orders come from the Brotherhood. Be sure you remember that." He said as he stalked out of the room.

Over the next several months, his words came rolling through my mind, no matter how much I tried to ignore it. I wondered if he could be right. The thing was, I couldn't help myself. Unlike him, I was guarding children. Toddlers, to boot. Children who needed a guard and a friend and I couldn't see why I couldn't be both.

Certainly, I knew my job and I did it well. The twins loved me and I loved them. But I didn't know how much my feelings for them would ruin me when faced with the near-disaster that was to come.

 **\|/**

 **~Arella's POV~**

All thirteen of my children were gathered around our large dinner table as Sar dished out helping after helping of spaghetti. Abel was already on his second helping by the time I got to cutting up Chazz and Dove's helping. Dove only seemed to pick at her plate. Simon had reported she had not napped well, despite being rocked for an hour. She was probably just tired.

At least, I hoped so.

"Dovey, don't you like it?" I asked my baby girl.

"No." Dove said, pushing her fork away.

I looked over at Sar. Dove was not a picky eater. Normally consuming everything put in front of her. Spaghetti had been one of her favorites before. Why wouldn't she eat it now?

Wiping his hands on a dish towel, Sar came over to the set of high chairs and squatted down to Dove's eye level.

"What don't you like about the spaghetti, Dovey?" He asked in his gentlest voice.

"Nothin'." Dove grumbled.

"Then why don't you eat it?" I asked. "Chazz likes it."

"Not hungry." Dove said. Her cheeks were pale, eyes very tired.

"Do you feel bad, Dove?" I asked, a pit of dread opened in my stomach.

Dove nodded. "No feel good."

Sar immediately had his hand on Dove's forehead. "She's not too warm." Dove told me. Despite saying that, I knew my husband was worried. So was I.

"What feels bad?" I asked Dove.

She pointed to her left arm. "Hurts." She said.

Her father examined her arm. There were no bruises; no swelling either. Dove grunted, and tat was when we heard the squeeze in her heart. In a split moment, Sar had her out of her high chair.

"We need to go, now." Sar told me.

"Abel, Lilith, you're in charge until we get back." I told our oldest. "Be good.

"Mom, what's the matter with Dove?" Lilith asked me.

"Hopefully nothing serious." I said.

I looked around for Sar. He was at the entryway giving orders to his guard. Nick was nodding and muttering words of respectful understanding. As I approached, I heard Nick's question.

"Shall I have Guard Simon accompany you and the little princess?"

"Yes." Sar said. "You, Simon, and Astra will come with us. Call in the others to keep an eye on the kids."

"As you wish, Your Highness." Nick said. He bent his head, then left our sight to retrieve the others.

We had only to wait a moment before he returned with the other guards. Nick had only to give them a few gestures with his hand and they went about their duties standing behind their respective charges.

I knew having their guards around them so late in the evening made the kids a little uneasy, but I had faith in their guards that they would keep the children calm and remind them they were safe.

"Daddy!" Dove whined, trying to curl into a ball.

"Astra, a portal, please." I begged of my loyal guard.

"Yes, Majesty." Astra clicked open a portal and we rushed into the emergency room at Aldenmor Memorial Hospital.

It hadn't escaped my notice that Simon couldn't stop looking at Dove. Concern showed in his dark-brown eyes and in the downward curve of his mouth. He'd known about Dove's arrhythmia for some time and for the past two years, he had been watching her very closely.

Sar worked closely with the other doctors to find out what was ailing our little girl. They quickly determined that she was having a heart attack.

My baby girl, only two years old, was having a heart attack.

They prepared her quickly to be taken away for treatment.

"Go with her." I begged Sar. "Look after her."

"Are you sure?" Sar asked me. "I can stay with you."

"No." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "She needs you. Stay with her and make sure everything goes okay.

Nodding, my husband kissed my head. I had a chance to kiss my daughter's cheek before they took her away from me. My husband and daughter disappeared, leaving me alone waiting with our guards.

Astra stood near my shoulder and Nick stood at the doorway, still as statues. But Simon couldn't be still. He often got up and paced the room, stepping outside to check the hallway, then coming back to continue watching over me. He seemed like a trapped animal. A trapped animal with a sword at his hip and a heart full of worry.

My heart arched for him. My heart was full of worry and fear and hurt for my little one. The pain on her features and in her cries echoed through my mind. I had prayed with all my heart that Dove would be alright.

As Simon passed Nick's post again, the older man seized Simon's elbow and shook his head at him. Defeated, Simon went back to standing at my other shoulder. Though, he fidgeted with the gauntlet on his left arm and the hilt of his sword.

I gave his hand a soft squeeze, hoping that would comfort him just a little bit. I knew he cared for Dove as much as her father and I did. He only seemed to relax a bit. Or, at least the hand on his sword hilt relaxed. But his jaw was still tight and I could hear his heartbeat thudding hard in his chest.

Astra took my other hand in hers. Her touch was as welcome as her words as she said, "Everything will be well, my queen. Princess Dove is in the very best hands."

I nodded, knowing she was right. This was one of the best hospitals in the best country. Besides that, her father was with her.

"Thank you, Astra." I said, squeezing her hand.

 **\|/**

 **~Sar's POV~**

Dove began to cry as we wheeled her away from her mother. I stroked her hair as we walked into the cardiac lab.

"It'll be alright, sweetie." I promised Dove. "You're going to be okay."

We hooked Dove to an IV line, gave her the best pain medicine we could give her young body. We sedated her in order to do angiograms and an arterial catheter. I just couldn't imagine Dove having a blocked artery so young. It came to be seen I was right. The heart attack hadn't been caused by a plaque blockage. It was caused by a collapsed artery.

The satisfaction of being correct was short-lived as I realized this would mean surgery for my delicate baby girl.

"We'll be as minimally invasive as possible." Dr. Nelson promised me in his soft voice. "Are you joining in?"

"Absolutely." I said without hesitation.

I took a moment to kiss Dove's head and reassure her things would be fine. The sedatives had made her loopy, and the resulting silly smile warmed my heart.

Dr. Nelson called me away to scrub up. Most times, I enjoyed the ritualistic process of preparing for surgery. It gave me time to clear my head and brace myself for what I would face. This time, however, all I could think of was that we would be taking a scalpel to my precious baby's chest. Her perfect soft skin forever scarred.

Inside the operating room, Dove was already soundly sleeping under the guidance of our pediatric anesthesiologist. Her tiny chest had been sterilized, the incision line mapped out with a blue surgical marker. It seemed we would be taking a less invasive approach by going in between her ribs. It seemed a little unorthodox compared to the traditional entry through the sternum, but I was glad that Dr. Nelson would not be breaking Dove's bones.

I reached for the scalpel, ready to begin.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Nelson asked me, taking the knife from my hand.

"I'm starting." I protested, a little surprised that my colleague didn't think I could handle this.

"Sartorius, this is your own kid. You're scared shitless, and I can see it in your eyes. You're assisting and assisting only. I'm calling the shots this time."

I huffed out a sigh, but I knew inside that he was right. He should be leading this operation.

After two hours and a half, we were done. Dove was taken to recovery and I went out to see my wife. Arella jumped to her feet and ran into my arms when she saw me.

"She's going to be okay. Surgery went well." I told my wife as I hugged her tight.

Over her shoulder, I could see Astra and Simon relaxing and I heard the sigh of relief coming from Nick behind me. They had all been tense and worried, even just a little.

"What happened?" Arella asked. "What caused it?"

"A weak artery collapsed. We went in between the ribs to make it less invasive. We inserted a stent to keep it open and restore the blood flow."

"So, no bones were broken, Sire?" Nick asked.

"No broken bones." I told him. "Just a very deep incision."

"What now, Sire?" Simon asked. This was the first he'd spoken since this began.

"Dove will remain here for a couple days to recover before she can come home. We'll be monitoring her closely for the next couple months to see what should be done next about the weak valve. If we're lucky, the returned blood flow will strengthen it and no further surgery will be needed."

Simon nodded his head in understanding. "Sire, am I to stay with her or am I to return home and watch Prince Chazz as well?" He asked.

"You may take shifts, though I imagine you will be here with them both. You know how they like to be separated."

Simon again nodded. He did know. He often had his hands full carrying both from room to room when they wanted to be carried.

"Can we see her?" Arella asked.

I nodded and, wrapping an arm around my wife, led her to Dove's room. There, Dove was asleep, but from her heart rate I knew she would wake soon. Arella, being the amazing mother she was, did not hesitate in taking her spot at our daughter's bedside.

The guards stood inside the room, seemingly eager as we were to see Dove awake.

Arella stroked our daughter's hair, cooing softly in that loving way she had.

"Hi, baby." Arella's lips moved into a smile as Dove's eyes slowly fluttered open.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Simon edge close. His entire body seemed to collapse in on itself as he relaxed.

"Momma?" Dove's voice was still tired.

"That's right, sweetie. That's right. Everything's okay now, see? I'm here, Daddy's here."

I stepped over and kissed Dove's forehead, which made her smile and relax.

"And so are Nick, Astra, and Simon. We're all so happy to see you awake!" Arella gushed.

Dove turned her head to peek around us, and smiled when she saw the guards. Her guard, especially. Dove adored Simon.

"Tevb leravet avetk 'er, Nesyekh." He said. _It's good to see you awake, Princess._

Dove smiled more. I didn't know how much Hebrew she understood from being around Simon, but she at least seemed to get the sentiment. "My chest don't hurt now." She announced, gladly.

Simon smiled as he touched her head. "Good." He said.

"Where's Chazz?"

My eyes softened. The twins were not often separated, and I knew Dove would not sit well with her brother at home while she was here in the hospital.

"Chazz is at home." I told her, expecting the resulting frown.

"We can bring him in to see you." Simon suggested to her. Ever the mediator. Ever knowing what to say.

Dove looked to us, begging us to bring her brother to her.

I looked to Simon and nodded. "If Chazz is still up, you can bring him in. same for any of the others who may be awake. I'm sure they're all concerned."

Simon bowed. Then, squeezing her hand with the promise to be back, he left. I turned my attention back to Dove. After making sure her stitches and monitors were alright, I cuddled her close and let her cling to me all she wanted. Within minutes, there was a knock at the door. Dove's eyes widened. Smiling, I helped her sit up a little. Arella holding her hand.

"Come on in." I called.

The door opened. There stood Simon with Chazz on his hip. Chazz clung to his blankie as well as his sister's squirtle. Behind them were the rest of our children, eager to see their baby sister.

"Dove!" Chazz cried, and wiggled wildly for Simon to set him down.

"Easy, Chazz." Simon said, placing the boy on his feet. Chazz ignored him, running to the bed. His mother picked him up and sat him next to his sister. The first thing he did was hug Dove. "He was antsy the whole way here." Simon explained, matter-of-factly.

Arella rubbed Chazz's back. "I'm sure he was." She said.

"What happened? Is everything alright?" Abel asked.

"She had a vein collapse in her heart. We repaired it by surgery and she'll be fine." I told him.

The children looked among each other, letting out held breaths they hadn't realized they'd been holding.

"How long will she be here?" Lilith asked. My oldest daughter could always hold her head level in a crisis.

"Just a few days." I told her. "Once we're sure everything is stable, then she can come home."

"And play?" Chazz asked.

"And play." I smiled.

"Be gentle when you play with her, Prince. She may still be sore." Simon cautioned in that special way of his. Never bossy. Never scolding. Only asking the toddler prince to be mindful of his sister's condition.

"Why?" Chazz asked.

"Dove had surgery, sweetling." Arella cooed. She moved Dove's hospital gown and peeled away the bandage to show our young boy the deep red incision.

"That looks bad." Chazz said, sadly.

"She'll get better." Simon said with absolute certainty.

"That's right." I agreed. "She will. Dove started picking at the drainage tube and I pulled her hand away.

"What is that for, Sire?" Simon asked.

"It's to drain excess fluid." I told him. "If too much fluid builds, it could put pressure on her heart and stints."

"So, she needs those." Simon said.

"For a short time, yes. They'll be removed in a few days. Hopefully before she comes home."

"I understand, Sire."

"Daddy, it itches!" Dove complained of the tube.

I went to the storage cabinet and brought back a tube of itch ointment and applied it carefully around the tube. "I know it itches, but you mustn't scratch at it." I told my sweet girl. "Scratching will hurt it."

"I will make sure she doesn't scratch it." Simon offered.

"Thank you, Simon." I said to the loyal guard.

"Better not scratch." Chazz told his sister. "Simon will tattle to Mom."

Arella giggled.

"No. I will tell your father." Simon said, tickling Chazz.

Chazz squealed and squirmed. "Simon! Simon!" He cried as he tried to evade the tickles while Dove laughed at her brother's dismay.

Simon chuckled as his hands left the boy's sides and patted his raven-dark hair.

"Hehe! Simon got you good!" Dove teased, hugging her squirtle plush.

"Best not tease," Arella playfully warned. "You might get tickled when you're all better."

". . . nuh-uh." Dove's smirk slid off her face as Simon's fingers formed claws which he wiggled at her as though preparing to tickle her. Putting her squirtle before her like a shield, Dove's blue eyes went wide.

"See! Now you gonna get it!" Chazz grinned, mischief in his gray-blue eyes.

"Don't tickle me, Simon." Dove begged of her guard.

"I won't. At least not now." Simon said. He dropped his hands. The left hand coming to rest on the pommel of his sword. Dove looked to me as though to say, "protect me, Daddy" and Simon frowned. "I won't hurt you, Princess. You know that." His voice was soft now.

I stroked Dove's snowy-white hair. She relaxed until a machine's beeping spooked her. Simon frowned at the machine and I knew he was concerned what that meant.

"It's alright." I assured everyone in the room. "It's just telling me that it's time for a new bag of fluids." After silencing the alarm, I stepped out of the room to grab a fresh saline bag from supply. Dove watched with intrigue as I started a new drip.

"What's that for, Daddy?" Dove asked.

"It's to make sure you stay plenty hydrated." I told her.

"High-dray-tid?" Her attempt at pronouncing the word made me smile.

"That means you have enough water in your body."

"Oh." Dove said, mulling the information over.

"Having enough water is good for you." Simon said.

"Very good for you." Arella agreed.

"Just think, Dove, you'll be well enough just in time for Kite day." I said. That perked Dove up.

"You hear that, Princess? Kite Day! Now you have something to look forward to." Simon smiled at her.

Dove nodded excitedly and grinned. "I wanna fly a yellow kite! With blue bows on the strings!" She told her guard.

"Yellow kite it is." Simon said. "What kind of kite do you want, Prince?" He asked of Chazz.

"A great big green one!" Chazz announced excitedly. He spread his arms out wide to indicate size and grinned just as wide.

The twins were so excited this year knowing they were big enough to handle kites on their own. Last year, Simon had carried them on his shoulders and let them play with the tiny toy kites. This year would be no different. He would still be within their shadows, watching them and caring for them. But he would not hold on to them as tightly as he had in the past.

"Green one it is." Simon said. Talking about the twin's kites seemed to make him happy. His bearded face split into a smile and his eyes were full of glee.

"Will you fly a kite, too, Simon?" Chazz asked.

Simon shook his head. "No. I have more fun watching you fly."

"How come?"

I had expected to hear him say something along the lines of "flying a kite would take my focus off my charges and could endanger them", or "I would be too distracted by controlling my kite to watch you properly". What he said instead had nothing to do with his responsibility towards them.

"The joy on your faces as you fly your kites makes my heart glad."

Chazz smiled, as did Arella and I. I felt that we could not have picked a better guard for our twins.

"So, you get better, Princess. Then you can fly your kite." Simon told Dove.

"I will! I'll get all better!" Dove smiled.

I reached down and checked the gauze collecting drainage. Everything looked good. "You are well on your way to being better." I assured Dove.

Simon seemed relieved. I wondered if I had anything to do with her health or if he feared he was making a promise to her he couldn't keep.

"Can I go home?" Dove asked.

"In a couple days." I promised.

"We just want you to rest right now." I stroked Dove's hair. I could tell she was beginning to tire. "Rest will make you feel better."

Dove reluctantly let out a yawn.

"Rest and you will heal faster." Simon told her, squeezing her hand with only three fingers. Dove's tiny fingers curled around him. Her sleepy blue eyes blinked slowly. Simon's thumb rubbed her knuckles, eliciting a soft sigh from her and she was asleep.

Simon met my gaze, his hand still trapped in our little girl's fingers. "Orders, Sire?" He asked.

"Stay with Chazz. We can look after Dove." I said.

"Am I going home?" Chazz asked me.

"For the night. If you're good for Simon and Grandma and Grandpa, maybe you can come visit sissy again tomorrow." I told him.

"Okay, Daddy." Chazz yawned. It was far, far past his bed time.

Arella scooped him up in her arms and rocked him for a while. Simon stood over Dove, his eyes on his young charge and his lips moving in a silent prayer. I couldn't hear the words but I knew him. He was asking his god to look after Dove and heal her. Her mother and I appreciated his prayers. We certainly knew she could use them.

Simon finished the prayer by patting Dove's hand. In his mother's arms, Chazz was now sleeping softly. Simon bowed to us as he took Chazz from Arella and guided everyone out of the room. Waving goodbye to our family, and sending them off with our love, Arella and I turned our attention back to our sleeping daughter.


	8. Chapter Seven

_Hello, my readers._

 _Sorry it took so long to complete this chapter. Work schedule and sleep schedule changes have made working on this difficult. But I just finished it this morning so here it is._

 _This chapter is more or less a co-op. Kawaii Stella didn't help me write the dialogue but she did answer questions. I started writing this chapter and it kind of took off like a rocket. I hope it's to her liking as she hasn't seen it until I posted it._

 _I did make one minor change to the story. Namely the location of the Assassin Brotherhood in Aldenmor. I had called it Rosewood at first but I thought that didn't fit them at all. I decided to call it Eagle's Grove instead. Most of you already know how prominent the eagle is in Assassin's Creed and I think it fits pretty well to be honest._

 _I really hope you guys are enjoying it. Because I'm enjoying writing this. Please R &R._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I do not own anything from the Assassin's Creed Franchise. Anything pertaining to Assassin's Creed belongs to UBIsoft._

* * *

| **Chapter Seven** |

 **~Simon Peter's POV~**

Much to my relief, Princess Dove did heal quickly; just as her father said she would. Unfortunately, with one of my charges in the hospital and the other returning home when visiting hours were over, I knew I couldn't be in two places at once. My hand was forced too soon and I was asked to find a suitable replacement for me when I couldn't be with both of them at once.

This choice had been easy enough. The family was close enough that the children were often playing together in the same room. Which meant multiple guards were also around to mind each other's charges as well as their own. However, I simply couldn't allow my fellow guardsmen to watch my charge at all times. Especially when he wasn't going to be with his siblings or his mother. Nicodemus was sometimes left to his own devices while the King was at the hospital, but even he frowned at me when I asked him if he could watch Prince Chazz while I was with Princess Dove. Astra had been a little more willing than Nicodemus, but even they alternated shifts when it came to their charges, and Astra couldn't leave her charge alone even at the hospital.

Fortunately, I had already had a plan. Within the palace itself, there were two types of guards: Personal and Palace. Personal guards watched the people they served and palace guards protected the palace itself. We'd been fortunate to have a minor surplus in palace guards and the King and I had already discussed the children's futures at length. He'd told me to pick one from the palace guards to watch one twin while the other was with me and he'd given me a stack of files to look through. I had gone through them dutifully until one stood out:

Archer Bellmonte. A fifty-something male vampire of low birth. He'd served in the Garrison before coming into service under the King sometime before the King even met Queen Arella. He'd been awarded medals for bravery under fire. However, his military record had no bearing on why I picked him. Archer accepted orders without question, often believing what he was told without looking into the facts. He also preferred quiet and solitude and was perhaps often driven to boredom.

Yes, I decided he would suit my needs. Though, not for the reasons I told His Majesty when I picked him. King Sartorius accepted the proposition and Archer was brought in as a personal guard. And so, while I stayed with Princess Dove in the hospital, Archer was left with Prince Chazz when the toddler princeling could not be with his twin.

The first day seemed to go fine at first, but even Princess Dove couldn't be consoled without her twin. Archer showed up the moment visiting hours began, carrying that anxious boy on his hip and shooting me a dark look. I looked straight ahead, attentive, but ignoring Archer's pointed gaze which wasn't difficult in the least despite he stayed with the royal twins and myself until visiting hours ended.

The second day was the same. Once again, Archer appeared with the anxious toddler prince and they weren't alone. Princes Atticus, Bastion, and Emory, and Princesses Raven and Aelita also came with Willem, Daniel, April, Tristan, and Felicia. They stayed and talked with Princess Dove for a time and telling her how they couldn't wait for her to come home. Then, a knock came at the door and the King entered with a big smile on his face.

"Dovelyn, someone's here to see you," he announced.

"Who is it?" Dove asked, excitedly.

King Sartorius opened the door wider and a strange man entered, eliciting excited squeals from the children. He was tall and slender and moved like he was made of water. He was well dressed in a blue, button-up shirt, a striped tie, black slacks, and brown shoes and a white lab coat emblazoned with a willow tree on the breast. His skin was pale, his hair golden and brushed back, and his eyes were strangely shaped like a cats—green-gold with black slits for pupils. As he reached to take Princess Dove's hand in greeting, I noticed the laminated name badge hanging from the pocket of his coat read **FINEMAN, Brannon K.**

"Princess Dove. How good to see you again." He said, a courteous smile pulled back his lips and exposed canines too long to be human. But his voice was smooth and gentle. Disarming, even. I couldn't help but feel relaxed with him so close to my charges.

His eyes arched up at Princess Chazz who had settled in beside his twin on the bed. "And Prince Chazz! You've grown so much since I last saw you!" He praised.

Prince Chazz beamed. "Uncle Bran!" He said. "What are you doing here?"

"Why else would I be here but to see how your twin sister is healing?" Dr. Fineman said, ruffling Prince Chazz's unruly black hair with one hand while gently capturing Princess Aelita's hand with the other as she tried to search the wide pockets of his coat. He looked down at Princess Aelita and smiled. "My, my! How you've grown too, little one!" He sat on a chair and pulled her into his lap. "You've gotten so big, I can barely lift you."

Princess Aelita giggled. "Tell us a story, Uncle Bran!"

"Yeah!" Prince Emory coaxed, his hands on Dr. Fineman's other knee. "A story! Tell us a story!"

"Oh, so many stories, so little time." Dr. Fineman said. "Which story do you want to hear?"

The children began to name off the stories they all liked, many of them didn't even have names at all but descriptors. Dr. Fineman understood what they meant well enough and praised them for remembering that particular tale. However, he would shake his head and say "That is a story for another time, I think."

The children sulked. "What story will you tell then, Uncle Bran?" Prince Atticus asked.

Dr. Fineman turned his gaze to Princess Dove. "I think Dove should choose the story this time. After all, I am here to see her."

Princess Dove thought about it a moment, sitting up in her bed amongst pillows and machines. "What about the story when this world began?" She said.

Dr. Fineman smiled broadly. "Yes. I think that would be an excellent story to tell." He said.

King Sartorius seemed to think differently. "Please, Brannon. Not this time. I don't want you giving her nightmares."

He looked at His Majesty with the saddest eyes. "Oh, come now, Sar. I'll leave out all the grisly details." As he turned his attention back to the children, he leaned forward and in a loud whisper, said, "Though, those are the best parts."

His Majesty rolled his eyes. "Keep it clean. That's all I ask."

"How clean should I keep it?" Dr. Fineman asked, innocently.

"G-rating. Think . . . Disney." His Majesty said.

"Hmm. That's boring." Dr. Fineman said. As His Majesty fixed Dr. Fineman with a dark warning glare, Dr. Fineman conceded. "Alright, alright. Clean story. Disney approved, as you would call it. Though, I'm sure by now you know Disney movies are not all that clean." Another glare from His Majesty silenced Dr. Fineman further, though the strange man did smile.

"Alright. Well, a long time ago, before your father and mother were even born . . ."

"Was Grandpa Sherman even born yet?" Prince Bastion asked.

"Even before your grandfather, Colonel Potter, was born." Dr. Fineman said with a chuckle.

"Were you born yet?" Princess Raven asked.

"No, dear me. I may be nearing my four-hundredth year, but this world was discovered long before that." Dr. Fineman told her. "This was even before my parents and my grandparents and my great-grandparents were born. Though, my grandfather was said to have been born around the time Aldenmor was built."

I looked at Nicodemus who was currently shadowing behind His Majesty and he only nodded. _Four hundred years!_ It had been common knowledge in Eagle's Grove that vampires are immortal. However, so few ever really saw their first century before they died for one reason or another. Even fewer even saw their second century, and even less saw their third. But this man was claiming to be nearly four hundred. Either he was doing very well with his immortality, or he was exaggerating.

"You see, children, vampires used to roam the world your father's adoptive family came from. We would feed on people at night and sleep during the day. However, humans called us demons and would hunt us and kill us just for being what we are." Dr. Fineman said.

" _Brannon!_ " His Majesty warned.

"There was nothing grisly in that, Sartorius." Dr. Fineman said, gentle but defensive. He looked past the King's elbow to Nicodemus. "Was there anything grisly in that detail, Sir Guard?"

"No, sir." Nicodemus said. "However, children have active imaginations. I would suggest taking His Majesty's advice and leave out killings in the future."

"Oh, alright." Dr. Fineman said. "It isn't as if there's no death in Disney films. Why, poor Bambi's mother-"

" _Brannon!_ We do not talk about Bambi!" His Majesty said, moving about the room now, checking all of Princess Dove's tubes, wires, and bandages. "You are also getting off tangent." I could've sworn I heard King Sartorius mutter "again" under his breath, but I couldn't be sure.

"Very well, Sartorius." Dr. Fineman said, sighing in defeat. "Anyway, children, the vampires of the world desired peace. A place they could go where they would be free of prejudice. While old order priests were 'demon hunting', a sect of monks saw the pain and terror vampires were going through and decided to step in.

"The monks opened their monastery to any vampires seeking sanctuary from vampire hunters. Often, they smuggled entire families out of cities and into the countryside. Even then, it seemed fruitless as more and more vampires were being discovered and put to death."

As Dr. Fineman told his story, I began to wonder if our vampire hunting and killing methods came from these same ancient traditions. Perhaps perfected over time and we didn't hunt vampires just for being blood drinkers. Unlike these people Dr. Fineman described.

"One day, a young monk whose name has been forgotten, was going into the city on the back of an ass—oh come now, Sartorius, I do mean donkey—to do God's work. He prayed for rain with farmers, baptized newborn children in the name of the trinity, prayed for healing for the sick and injured, and sent vampires he found on their way to his monastery. On his way back to the monastery, a storm drove him off his usual path and he was forced to seek shelter. He found a cave and waited the storm out. Eventually, he grew bored with waiting and decided to explore. He took with him a torch and investigated the cave and that was when he found . . ." Dr. Fineman stopped in his storytelling and smiled at the children as though waiting for an answer.

"A portal?" Prince Emory asked.

"Precisely, Emory. A portal. A portal which led to a new world. The monk explored this new world and came to discover that it was already inhabited by people. Vampires, shape-shifters, and mages. A place where magic was alive and unrestrained and used. A place where people weren't abhorred by each other simply because of what they were. He realized the vampires from his world could find solace here in this new world. However, this would not be easy.

"He met with the natives of this world and broke bread with them. He spoke to them about their lives and asked if he could bring in tortured vampires from his world to settle here. The natives agreed on the condition that these new vampires leave the natives to their own way of life. The monk was quick to agree to such terms and he returned to his world and his monastery with news to the head of his order of monastics and the order began their own mission of moving vampires from their world to the new world.

"Unfortunately, as the monastics were helping the vampires move, the vampire hunters became aware that someone was helping their prey escape. Inquisitions were started . . ." Dr. Fineman looked at His Majesty and noticed the frown. "I only said 'inquisitions', Sar. No details." He said.

"What's an in-qui-zi-shun?" Prince Atticus asked.

"I'll tell you when you're older." The King said.

"Yes. It is very bloody business. Quite nasty. Mainly involving torture and interrogations and the like. Granted, this was back in the days where magic wasn't used in that world. No truth spells or potions. And empaths weren't commonly accepted among the people. So physical pain was used-" Dr. Fineman explained.

" _Brannon!_ " The King warned.

"-to retrieve answers." Dr. Fineman continued as though His Majesty hadn't spoken. "Come now, Sartorius. At least I didn't mention the instruments they used for such nasty work."

His Majesty shot Brannon a dirty look as he peeled back Princess Dove's bandages.

"As I was saying, nearly everyone was affected by the inquisition. Neighbor reported on neighbor. Brother reported on brother. The monastics themselves stopped coming to the city for even they were being seized and questioned. And the vampires who had been aided by the monastics or knew of what they had done, took it upon themselves to help the monastics. While the remaining monastics helped the vampires move to their new home, the vampires also helped the monastics move to the new world as well."

"Are the mon-nasties still here?" Prince Chazz asked.

"Mon-as-ticks, dear boy." Dr. Fineman pronounced slowly with gentleness. "And yes. There are many monastics still here. They would have more information on the Great Migration than I would."

Princess Dove raised her hand and Dr. Fineman smiled, nodding at her to go on and ask her question. "Who named this world Aldenmor?"

"The natives. Aldenmor is two words mashed together. 'Alden' means 'old friend', and a moor is a tract of open, uncultivated upland. So, the literal translation is 'uncultivated land of old friends'." Dr. Fineman said.

"Uncle Bran, you said this was a story about how Aldenmor was discovered. But there were people already here. How is it they came to be here?" Prince Atticus asked.

"A very good question, Atty." Dr. Fineman said. "The truth of the matter is, Aldenmor has always existed and the natives had always been here as well. Many ancient texts say the natives had simply come to be part of this world just as the people of Earth had always been a part of that world as well. So, in point of fact, the discovery of Aldenmor is only told by the immigrant's point of view as the natives have no discovery story. Even so, I am certainly glad there is even a discovery story to tell."

"Is Mommy and Daddy descended from the immigrants or the natives?" Prince Bastion asked.

"Your mother is descended from immigrants." Dr. Fineman explained. "Your father is descended from a long line of native blood. A royal line of vampires and sorcerers all leading up to him. And now to you." Dr. Fineman patted Aelita's pink hair, smiling fondly at the young princess. "So, you see, your blood has ancient origins full of powerful magic."

Princess Aelita beamed at this.

"How did you come to Aldenmor?" Prince Emory asked.

Dr. Fineman smiled. "That, my dear boy, is a story for another time. Only know that my parents immigrated to this world from Earth some four centuries ago. They came looking for prosperity and freedom. I was born here nearly four centuries ago."

The fact he was nearly five hundred years old still blew my mind. How is it a man could live so long? How many others could lay claim to being considered the oldest of vampires?

A sensation pulled at me and I signaled to the other guards that I had need to relieve myself. They nodded their understanding, signaling with hand gestures that my charges would be well-looked after upon my return. I quietly excused myself from the room and headed for the public restroom, which was a nice facility for relieving oneself either at toilet or urinal. But I chose not to take in the scenery and instead stood at a urinal near the door and began to relieve myself.

Just as I unzipped my trousers, the door opened and my head whipped in the direction of the newcomer. Dr. Fineman stood there, regarding me shrewdly in such a way that I stopped urinating at once.

"You're new, aren't you?" Dr. Fineman said. "I have come and gone from the Palace many times since Sartorius began his reign and I do not recall your face."

I didn't know what to say to that and attempted to ignore him and return to relieving myself.

"You must be Simon Peter. Yes, that is your name. The military policeman hired to guard the twins."

Ignoring him was going to be difficult.

"I can also tell by your smell that you're human. Don't worry, there's no shame in maintaining one's humanity. Though, surprising to say the least considering you're guarding two soon-to-be vampires." Dr. Fineman said. "Might I also assume you come from a very sheltered lifestyle and you haven't much experience with psychics."

My stream grew smaller as terror welled inside me. I heard Dr. Fineman smile.

"Yes, dear boy. I can hear every thought that goes through that head of yours. The other guards know better than to let themselves think things so loudly. The most I ever collect from them is songs or a sudoku puzzle. But you . . . I heard your thoughts in that room while I was telling the story Dove so kindly asked me to tell. I couldn't help but notice you were wondering about vampire hunting techniques, and if I was exaggerating about my age. Also the name of a location I am sad to say I don't know. Eagle's Grove, is it? I would ask you to point that out on a map but I can tell that would not do at all."

I let my mind go blank and tried to think of the sound of a waterfall instead. My attempts seemed to have amused him.

"I can tell you I'm not interested in where this Eagle's Grove is. I doubt you're even allowed to tell me where it is. As to my age, I am indeed three-hundred eighty-four years old. It's been quite the effort on my part to keep track of the years. Many vampires stop counting after their first century has come and gone. I've been many things over the years—thirty of which was spent as a human. A psychiatrist and mind-reader are only two sides that make me . . . well, me."

I stopped urinating once my bladder was empty, wiped myself, zipped my trousers, and went to the sink to wash my hands. Dr. Fineman's eyes followed me.

"I see you're missing a finger. Left ring finger. Just like that gold-haired man shadowing after Sartorius all the time. Nicodemus I believe his name is. Goes by Nick, I think is the word around the water cooler. Or wine jar. Or whatever it is you guards gossip by these days. Still, it's interesting to say the least. Missing a finger. And I assume your hands are scarred by years of using a blade."

I made the mistake of looking him in the eye which only broadened his smile.

"I know what you are, Simon Peter of Eagle's Grove. You're no ordinary man, guard, or military policeman. You're a member of the Brotherhood of Assassins."

My hand slipped on the facet knob and water splashed in my face in surprise. Dr. Fineman laughed with amusement.

"My powers of mind reading has grown since the three-hundred fifty-four years I discovered I could do it. I'll admit, sometimes there is too much chatter in the airwaves and it grows more difficult to shut it out in busy places such as this. It took me twenty years to learn how to shut things out and pick out voices here and there. It took me another ten to only listen to thoughts I wanted to. But yours are screaming so loudly. You're frightened of being found out. Interesting. I had thought your people had no fears."

"We do." I said, speaking for the first time. "We each have our own individual fears."

"Of course, how silly of me to think otherwise." Dr. Fineman said, waving a dismissive hand around. "I'm no empath, but I get the sense you're less afraid of me knowing what you are and more afraid of what I would do with that knowledge. Perhaps wrench the location of your beloved Eagle's Grove from your mind? Perhaps I should tell Sartorius about you and Nicodemus and see what he has to say?"

My heart skipped too many beats. In the mirror, I saw his look had gone from gleeful to serious. There was a dangerous fire in those golden cat's eyes.

"I have many friends, Assassin. Powerful allies. I have spent decades making friends with them. Not for glory and not for power. Definitely not for money. I have made myself a trusted ally with these powerful people in Sartorius' court and I wouldn't do anything to break that trust. Trust is everything to me. And to them. But it is Sartorius' trust I intend to keep the most. What would he say if he knew not one, but two assassins were in his employ?" He paused, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "Does that frighten you, Assassin? Tell me, which frightens you most: his wroth, or the idea of being separated from the children you care for so much."

I couldn't say anything. I knew it wouldn't matter anyway. My thoughts were screaming in loud voices. The faces of my beloved charges were all I could concentrate on. Princess Dove and Prince Chazz . . . they had taught me how to love when I didn't even know the meaning of the word. If I was dismissed from His Majesty's service, what would become of them? Would Archer know what to do with them? He barely seemed to know what to do with one toddler, let alone two.

"The children. That is what you're most concerned about? The children's wellbeing?" Dr. Fineman gave me a small smile. "Well, I can certainly say both Chazz and Dove seem to love you. And you've taken very good care of them. This is quite satisfactory to me. And both Sartorius and Arella seem to be in good health, their lives unthreatened. Very well, Assassin, I'll make you a deal. I will keep this information to myself—I'm very good at keeping secrets, you know. My patients and friends have need of such a good secret keeper as I. In return, you must promise me that no harm will come to any members of that delightful family. Either by your hand, Nicodemus' hand, or any of the hand of your brethren."

"I swear it." I said.

"I'll take your word for it, Assassin." Dr. Fineman said. "Do remember, I'm a dangerous man. Should you cross me, your secret is out. And I will be only too happy to reveal the location of your Eagle's Grove to Sartorius and the authorities. And should you think about eliminating me as a threat, I shall know. And there will be repercussions from my allies should I turn up dead under mysterious circumstances."

Dr. Fineman was right. He is a dangerous man. Yet, the children still loved him like family and His Majesty seemed to respect him as some sort of mix between old friend and annoying relative. He was clearly highly ranked among His Majesty's court and I doubted he exaggerated about his alliances. The thought about eliminating him had crossed my mind, but I knew that would only draw unwanted attention to my brethren. I had only myself to blame for being unable to keep my thoughts locked away. I was woefully unprepared to deal with a psychic such as him.

Yet, the thought still bothered me. Would Dr. Fineman keep his promise to keep my secret and the secret of the Brotherhood? Or had I just doomed Eagle's Grove to the genocide the Mentors told us about when they taught us the creed?

 _Never compromise the Assassin Brotherhood._

Had I just compromised my brethren?


End file.
